IIB/MRY 

UNIVERSITY  Of  CALIFORNIA 
RIVERSIDE 


A  TRAVELLER  IN 
WAR-TIME 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

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THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. 

TORONTO 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

WITH  AN  ESSAY  ON 

THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 
AND  THE  DEMOCRATIC  IDEA 


BY 

WINSTON  CHURCHILL 

Author  of  "The  Inside  of  the  Cup,"  "The  Dwelling 
Place  of  Light,"  etc. 


Nrro  fork 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1918 

AU  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT.  1918 
BY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

COPYRIGHT,  1918 
BY  THE   MACMILLAN  COMPANY 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.    Published  July,  1918. 


I  AM  reprinting  here,  in  response  to  requests,  certain 
recent  experiences  in  Great  Britain  and  France. 
These  were  selected  in  the  hope  of  conveying  to  Amer- 
ican readers  some  idea  of  the  atmosphere,  of  "  what  it  is 
like  "  in  these  countries  under  the  immediate  shadow 
of  the  battle  clouds.  It  was  what  I  myself  most  wished 
to  know.  My  idea  was  first  to  send  home  my  impres- 
sions while  they  were  fresh,  and  to  refrain  as  far  as 
possible  from  comment  and  judgment  until  I  should 
have  had  time  to  make  a  fuller  survey.  Hence  I  chose 
as  a  title  for  these  articles, —  intended  to  be  prelim- 
inary,— "  A  Traveller  in  War-Time."  I  tried  to  banish 
from  my  mind  all  previous  impressions  gained  from 
reading.  I  wished  to  be  free  for  the  moment  to  accept 
and  record  the  chance  invitation  or  adventure,  wherever 
met  with,  at  the  Front,  in  the  streets  of  Paris,  in 
Ireland,  or  on  the  London  omnibus.  Later  on,  I  hoped 
to  write  a  book  summarizing  the  changing  social  condi- 
tions as  I  had  found  them. 

Unfortunately  for  me,  my  stay  was  unexpectedly  cut 


short.  I  was  able  to  avail  myself  of  but  few  of  the 
many  opportunities  offered.  With  this  apology,  the  ar- 
ticles are  presented  as  they  were  written. 

I  have  given  the  impression  that  at  the  time  of  my 
visit  there  was  no  lack  of  food  in  England,  but  I  fear 
that  I  have  not  done  justice  to  the  frugality  of  the  peo- 
ple, much  of  which  was  self-imposed  for  the  purpose  of 
helping  to  win  the  war.  On  very  good  authority  I  have 
been  given  to  understand  that  food  was  less  abundant 
during  the  winter  just  past ;  partly  because  of  the  effect 
of  the  severe  weather  on  our  American  railroads,  which 
had  trouble  in  getting  supplies  to  the  coast,  and  partly 
because  more  and  more  ships  were  required  for  trans- 
porting American  troops  and  supplies  for  these  troops, 
to  France.  This  additional  curtailment  was  most  felt 
by  families  of  small  income,  whose  earners  were  at  the 
front  or  away  on  other  government  service.  Mothers 
had  great  difficulty  in  getting  adequate  nourishment  for 
growing  children.  But  the  British  people  cheerfully 
submitted  to  this  further  deprivation.  Summer  is  at 
hand.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  before  another  winter  sets 
in,  American  and  British  shipping  will  have  sufficiently 
increased  to  remedy  the  situation. 

In  regard  to  what  I  have  said  of  the  British  army,  I 
was  profoundly  struck,  as  were  other  visitors  to  that 
front,  by  the  health  and  morale  of  the  men,  by  the  mar- 


PREFACE 

vel  of  organization  accomplished  in  so  comparatively 
brief  a  time.  It  was  one  of  the  many  proofs  of  the  ex- 
tent to  which  the  British  nation  had  been  socialized. 
When  one  thought  of  that  little  band  of  regulars  sent  to 
France  in  1914,  who  became  immortal  at  Mons,  who 
shared  the  glory  of  the  Marne,  and  in  that  first  dreadful 
winter  held  back  the  German  hosts  from  the  Channel 
ports,  the  presence  on  the  battle  line  of  millions  of  dis- 
ciplined and  determined  men  seemed  astonishing  in- 
deed. And  this  had  been  accomplished  by  a  nation  fac- 
ing the  gravest  crisis  in  its  history,  under  the  necessity 
of  sustaining  and  financing  many  allies  and  of  protect- 
ing an  Empire.  Since  my  return  to  America  a  serious 
reverse  has  occurred. 

After  the  Russian  peace,  the  Germans  attempted  to 
overwhelm  the  British  by  hurling  against  them  vastly 
superior  numbers  of  highly  trained  men.  It  is  for  the 
military  critic  of  the  future  to  analyse  any  tactical 
errors  that  may  have  been  made  at  the  second  battle  of 
the  Somme.  Apparently  there  was  an  absence  of 
preparation,  of  specific  orders  from  high  sources  in  the 
event  of  having  to  cede  ground.  This  much  can  be 
said,  that  the  morale  of  the  British  Army  remains  un- 
impaired ;  that  the  presence  of  mind  and  ability  of  the 
great  majority  of  the  officers  who,  flung  on  their  own 
resources,  conducted  the  retreat,  cannot  be  questioned; 


PKEFACE 

while  the  accomplishment  of  General  Carey,  in  stopping 
the  gap  with  an  improvised  force  of  non-combatants, 
will  go  down  in  history. 

In  an  attempt  to  bring  home  to  myself,  as  well  as  to 
my  readers,  a  realization  of  what  American  partici- 
pation in  this  war  means  or  should  mean,  I  have  added 
to  the  volume  an  essay  on  the  American  Contribution 
and  the  Democratic  Idea. 

WINSTON  CHURCHILL. 


CONTENTS 

A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME.  PAGE 

Chapter      I 3 

Chapter    II 31 

Chapter  III 65 

AN  ESSAY  ON  THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION  AND  THE 

DEMOCRATIC  IDEA  .  99 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  The  American  Chateau  "  behind  the  British  lines    .    Frontispiece 

FACING 
PAGE 

Chateau  of  Versailles  .  18 


Vice-Admiral  Sims  and   his  Chief  of  Staff,  Captain   Pringle 

of  the  Destroyer  Flotilla 34 

American  Y.  M.  C.  A.  "hut"  in  the  Strand,  London     ...  40 

King   George   and    Lloyd   George   in   conversation   with   an 

American  officer 46 

Boating  at  Eton 52 

The  Square  at  Arras 90 

The  Square  at  Albert,  showing  the  Leaning  Virgin    ....  90 


CHAPTEE  I 


A  TRAVELLER  IN 
WAR-TIME 


CHAPTER  I 


TOWARD  the  end  of  the  summer  of  1917  it  was 
very  hot  in  ISTew  York,  and  hotter  still  aboard  the 
transatlantic  liner  thrust  between  the  piers.  One 
glance  at  our  cabins,  at  the  crowded  decks  and  dining- 
room,  at  the  little  writing-room  above,  where  the  ink 
had  congealed  in  the  ink-wells,  sufficed  to  bring  home  to 
us  that  the  days  of  luxurious  sea  travel,  of  a  la  carte 
restaurants,  and  Louis  Seize  bedrooms  were  gone  —  at 
least  for  a  period.  The  prospect  of  a  voyage  of  nearly 
two  weeks  was  not  enticing.  The  ship,  to  be  sure,  was 
far  from  being  the  best  of  those  still  running  on  a  line 
which  had  gained  a  magic  reputation  of  immunity  from 
submarines ;  three  years  ago  she  carried  only  second  and 
third  class  passengers !  But  most  of  us  were  in  a  hurry 
to  get  to  the  countries  where  war  had  already  become  a 
grim  and  terrible  reality.  In  one  way  or  another  we 
had  all  enlisted. 

3 


4  A  TRAVELLEK  IN  WAR-TIME 

By  "  we  "  I  mean  the  American  passengers.  The 
first  welcome  discovery  among  the  crowd  wandering 
aimlessly  and  somewhat  disconsolately  about  the  decks 
was  the  cheerful  face  of  a  friend  whom  at  first  I  did 
not  recognize  because  of  his  amazing  disguise  in  uni- 
form. Hitherto  he  had  been  associated  in  my  mind 
with  dinner  parties  and  clubs.  That  life  was  past.  He 
had  laid  up  his  yacht  and  joined  the  Red  Cross  and, 
henceforth,  for  an  indeterminable  period,  he  was  to 
abide  amidst  the  discomforts  and  dangers  of  the  Western 
Front,  with  five  days'  leave  every  three  months.  The 
members  of  a  group  similarly  attired  whom  I  found 
gathered  by  the  after-rail  were  likewise  cheerful.  Two 
well-known  specialists  from  the  Massachusetts  General 
Hospital  made  significant  the  hegira  now  taking  place 
that  threatens  to  leave  our  country,  like  Britain,  almost 
doctorless.  When  I  reached  France  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  met  all  the  celebrated  medical  men  I  ever  heard 
of.  A  third  in  the  group  was  a  business  man  from  the 
Middle  West  who  had  wound  up  his  affairs  and  left  a 
startled  family  in  charge  of  a  trust  company.  Though 
his  physical  activities  had  hitherto  consisted  of  an  occa- 
sional mild  game  of  golf,  he  wore  his  khaki  like  an  old 
campaigner;  and  he  seemed  undaunted  by  the  prospect 
—  still  somewhat  remotely  ahead  of  him  —  of  a  winter 
journey  across  the  Albanian  Mountains  from  the 
to  the  Adriatic ! 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  5 

After  a  restless  night,  we  sailed  away  in  the  hot  dawn 
of  a  Wednesday.  The  shores  of  America  faded  behind 
us,  and  as  the  days  went  by,  we  had  the  odd  sense  of 
threading  uncharted  seas;  we  found  it  more  and  more 
difficult  to  believe  that  this  empty,  lonesome  ocean  was 
the  Atlantic  in  the  twentieth  century.  Once  we  saw  a 
four-master ;  once  a  shy,  silent  steamer  avoided  us,  west- 
ward bound ;  and  once  in  mid-ocean,  tossed  on  a  sea  sun- 
silvered  under  a  rack  of  clouds,  we  overtook  a  gallant 
little  schooner  out  of  New  Bedford  or  Gloucester  —  a 
forthfarer,  too. 

Meanwhile,  amongst  the  Americans,  the  socializing 
process  had  begun.  Many  elements  which  in  a  former 
stratified  existence  would  never  have  been  brought  into 
contact  were  fusing  by  the  pressure  of  a  purpose,  of  a 
great  adventure  common  to  us  all.  On  the  upper  deck, 
high  above  the  waves,  was  a  little  fumoir  which,  by  some 
odd  trick  of  association,  reminded  me  of  the  villa  for- 
merly occupied  by  the  Kaiser  in  Corfu  —  perhaps  be- 
cause of  the  faience  plaques  set  in  the  walls  —  although 
I  cannot  now  recall  whether  the  villa  has  faience  plaques 
or  not.  The  room  was,  of  course,  on  the  order  of  a 
French  provincial  cafe,  and  as  such  delighted  the 
bourgeoisie  monopolizing  the  alcove  tables  and  joking 
with  the  fat  steward.  Here  in  this  fumoir,  lawyers, 
doctors,  business  men  of  all  descriptions,  newspaper  cor- 
respondents, movie  photographers,  and  millionaires  who 


6  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

had  never  crossed  save  in  a  cabine  de  luxe,  rubbed  elbows 
and  exchanged  views  and  played  bridge  together. 
There  were  Y.  M.  C.  A.  people  on  their  way  to  the 
various  camps,  reconstruction  workers  intending  to 
build  temporary  homes  for  the  homeless  French,  and 
youngsters  in  the  uniform  of  the  American  Field  Serv- 
ice, going  over  to  drive  camions  and  ambulances ;  many 
of  whom,  without  undue  regret,  had  left  college  after  a 
freshman  year.  They  invaded  the  fumoir,  undaunted, 
to  practise  atrocious  French  on  the  phlegmatic  steward ; 
they  took  possession  of  a  protesting  piano  in  the  banal 
little  salon  and  sang :  "  We'll  not  come  back  till  it's 
over  over  there."  And  in  the  evening,  on  the  darkened 
decks,  we  listened  and  thrilled  to  the  refrain : 

"  There's  a  long,  long  trail  a-winding 
Into  the  land  of  my  dreams." 

We  were  Argonauts  —  even  the  Red  Cross  ladies  on 
their  way  to  establish  rest  camps  behind  the  lines  and 
brave  the  mud  and  rains  of  a  winter  in  eastern  France. 
None,  indeed,  were  more  imbued  with  the  forthfaring 
spirit  than  these  women,  who  were  leaving,  without 
regret,  sheltered,  comfortable  lives  to  face  hardships  and 
brave  dangers  without  a  question.  And  no  sharper 
proof  of  the  failure  of  the  old  social  order  to  provide  for 
human  instincts  and  needs  could  be  found  than  the  con- 


A  TKAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  T 

viction  they  gave  of  new  and  vitalizing  forces  released 
in  them.  The  timidities  with  which  their  sex  is  sup- 
posedly encumbered  had  disappeared,  and  even  the  pos- 
sibility of  a  disaster  at  sea  held  no  terrors  for  them. 
When  the  sun  fell  down  into  the  warm  waters  of  the 
Gulf  Stream  and  the  cabins  below  were  sealed  —  and 
thus  become  insupportable  —  they  settled  themselves  for 
the  night  in  their  steamer-chairs  and  smiled  at  the  re- 
mark of  M.  le  Commissaire  that  it  was  a  good  "  season  " 
for  submarines.  The  moonlight  filtered  through  the 
chinks  in  the  burlap  shrouding  the  deck.  About  3  A.  M. 
the  khaki-clad  lawyer  from  Milwaukee  became  communi- 
cative, the  Red  Cross  ladies  produced  chocolate.  It  was 
the  genial  hour  before  the  final  nap,  from  which  one 
awoke  abruptly  at  the  sound  of  squeegees  and  brooms  to 
find  the  deck  a  river  of  sea  water,  on  whose  banks  a  wild 
scramble  for  slippers  and  biscuit-boxes  invariably  en- 
sued. No  experience  could  have  been  more  socializing. 
"  Well,  it's  a  relief,"  one  of  the  ladies  exclaimed,  "  not 
to  be  travelling  with  half  a  dozen  trunks  and  a  hat-box ! 
Oh,  yes,  I  realize  what  I'm  doing.  I'm  going  to  live 
in  one  of  those  flimsy  portable  houses  with  twenty  cots 
and  no  privacy  and  wear  the  same  clothes  for  months, 
but  it's  better  than  thrashing  around  looking  for  some- 
thing to  do  and  never  finding  it,  never  getting  anything 
real  to  spend  one's  energy  on.  I've  closed  my  country 


8  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

house,  I've  sublet  my  apartment,  I've  done  with  teas 
and  bridge,  and  I'm  happier  than  I've  been  in  my  life  — 
even  if  I  don't  get  enough  sleep." 

Another  lady,  who  looked  still  young,  had  two  sons  in 
the  army.  "  There  was  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  sit 
around  the  house  and  wait,  and  I  want  to  be  useful.  My 
husband  has  to  stay  at  home;  he  can't  leave  his  busi- 
ness." Be  useful !  There  she  struck  the  new  and  ag- 
gressive note  of  emancipation  from  the  restricted  self- 
sacrifice  of  the  old  order,  of  wider  service  for  the  un- 
named and  the  unknown ;  and,  above  all,  for  the  wider 
self-realization  of  which  service  is  but  a  by-product.  I 
recall  particularly  among  these  women  a  young  widow 
with  an  eager  look  in  clear  grey  eyes  that  gazed  east- 
ward into  the  unknown  with  hope  renewed.  Had  she 
lived  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago  she  might  have  been 
doomed  to  slow  desiccation.  There  are  thousands  of 
such  women  in  France  today,  and  to  them  the  great 
war  has  brought  salvation. 

From  what  country  other  than  America  could  so  many 
thousands  of  pilgrims  —  even  before  our  nation  had 
entered  the  war  —  have  hurried  across  a  wide  ocean  to 
take  their  part?  ~No  matter  what  religion  we  profess, 
whether  it  be  Calvinism,  or  Catholicism,  we  are  indi- 
vidualists, pragmatists,  empiricists  for  ever.  Our  faces 
are  set  toward  strange  worlds  presently  to  rise  out  of 
the  sea  and  take  on  form  and  colour  and  substance  — 


A  TKAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  9 

worlds  of  new  aspirations,  of  new  ideas  and  new  values. 
And  on  this  voyage  I  was  reminded  of  Josiah  Royce's 
splendid  summary  of  the  American  philosophy  —  of  the 
American  religion  as  set  forth  by  William  James: 
"  The  spirit  of  the  frontiers-man,  of  the  gold-seeker  or 
the  home-builder  transferred  to  the  metaphysical  or  to 
the  religious  realm.  There  is  a  far-off  home,  our  long- 
lost  spiritual  fortune.  Experience  alone  can  guide  us 
to  the  place  where  these  things  are,  hence  indeed  you 
need  experience.  You  can  only  win  your  way  on  the 
frontier  unless  you  are  willing  to  live  there."  Through 
the  pall  of  horror  and  tragedy  the  American  sees  a 
vision;  for  him  it  is  not  merely  a  material  and  bloody 
contest  of  arms  and  men,  a  military  victory  to  be  gained 
over  an  aggressive  and  wrong-minded  people.  It  is  a 
world  calamity,  indeed,  but  a  calamity,  since  it  has 
come,  to  be  spiritualized  and  utilized  for  the  benefit 
of  the  future  society  of  mankind.  It  must  be  made  to 
serve  a  purpose  in  helping  to  liberate  the  world  from 
sentimentalism,  ignorance,  close-mindedness,  and  cant. 


II 


One  night  we  entered  the  danger  zone.  There  had 
been  an  entertainment  in  the  little  salon  which, 
packed  with  passengers,  had  gradually  achieved  the 
temperature  and  humidity  of  a  Turkish  bath.  For  the 


10  A  TEAVELLEE  IN  WAE-TIME 

ports  had  been  closed  as  tight  as  gaskets  could  make 
them,  the  electric  fans,  as  usual,  obstinately  "  refused  to 
march."  After  the  amateur  speechmaking  and  concert 
pieces  an  Italian  violinist,  who  had  thrown  over  a  lucra- 
tive contract  to  become  a  soldier,  played  exquisitely ;  and 
one  of  the  French  sisters  we  had  seen  walking  the  deck 
with  the  mincing  steps  of  the  cloister  sang,  somewhat 
precariously  and  pathetically,  the  Ave  Maria.  Its 
pathos  was  of  the  past,  and  after  she  had  finished,  as  we 
fled  into  the  open  air,  we  were  conscious  of  having 
turned  our  backs  irrevocably  yet  determinedly  upon  an 
era  whose  life  and  convictions  the  music  of  the  composer 
so  beautifully  expressed.  And  the  sister's  sweet  with- 
ered face  was  reminiscent  of  a  missal,  one  bright  with 
colour,  and  still  shining  faintly.  A  missal  in  a  library 
of  modern  books ! 

On  deck  a  fine  rain  was  blowing  through  a  gap  in 
our  burlap  shroud,  a  phosphorescent  fringe  of  foam 
hissed  along  the  sides  of  the  ship,  giving  the  illusory  ap- 
pearance of  our  deadlights  open  and  ablaze,  exaggerat- 
ing the  sinister  blackness  of  the  night.  We  were, 
apparently,  a  beacon  in  that  sepia  waste  where  modern 
undersea  monsters  were  lurking. 

There  were  on  board  other  elements  which  in  the  nor- 
mal times  gone  by  would  have  seemed  disquieting 
enough.  The  evening  after  we  had  left  New  York, 
while  we  were  still  off  the  coast  of  Long  Island,  I  saw 


A  TKAVELLEK  IN  WAR-TIME  11 

on  the  poop  a  crowd  of  steerage  passengers  listening 
intently  to  harangues  by  speakers  addressing  them  from 
the  top  of  a  pile  of  life  rafts.  Armenians,  I  was  told,  on 
their  way  to  fight  the  Turks,  all  recruited  in  America 
by  one  frenzied  woman  who  had  seen  her  child  cut  in 
two  by  a  German  officer.  Twilight  was  gathering  as 
I  joined  the  group,  the  sea  was  silvered  by  the  light  of 
an  August  moon  floating  serenely  between  swaying 
stays.  The  orator's  passionate  words  and  gestures 
evoked  wild  responses  from  his  hearers,  whom  the  drag 
of  an  ancient  hatred  had  snatched  from  the  peaceful 
asylum  of  the  west.  This  smiling,  happy  folk,  which 
I  had  seen  in  our  manufacturing  towns  and  cities, 
were  now  transformed,  atavistic  —  all  save  one,  a  stu- 
dent, who  stared  wistfully  through  his  spectacles  across 
the  waters.  Later,  when  twilight  deepened,  when  the 
moon  had  changed  from  silver  to  gold,  the  orators  gave 
place  to  a  singer.  He  had  been  a  bootblack  in  America. 
Now  he  had  become  a  bard.  His  plaintive  minor  chant 
evoked,  one  knew  not  how,  the  flavour  of  that  age-long 
history  of  oppression  and  wrong  these  were  now  de- 
termined to  avenge.  Their  conventional  costumes  were 
proof  that  we  had  harboured  them  —  almost,  indeed, 
assimilated  them.  And  suddenly  they  had  reverted. 
They  were  going  to  slaughter  the  Turks. 

On  a  bright  Saturday  afternoon  we  steamed  into  the 
wide  mouth  of  the  Gironde,  a  name  stirring  vague  mem- 


12  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

cries  of  romance  and  terror.  The  French  passengers 
gazed  wistfully  at  the  low-lying  strip  of  sand  and  for- 
est, but  our  uniformed  pilgrims  crowded  the  rail  and 
hailed  it  as  the  promised  land  of  self-realization.  A 
richly  coloured  watering-place  slid  into  view,  as  in  a 
moving-picture  show.  There  was,  indeed,  all  the 
reality  and  unreality  of  the  cinematograph  ahout  our 
arrival;  presently  the  reel  would  end  abruptly,  and  we 
should  find  ourselves  pushing  our  way  out  of  the  empty- 
ing theatre  into  a  rainy  street.  The  impression  of  un- 
reality in  the  face  of  visual  evidence  persisted  into  the 
night  when,  after  an  afternoon  at  anchor,  we  glided  up 
the  river,  our  decks  and  ports  ablaze  across  the  land. 
Silhouettes  of  tall  poplars  loomed  against  the  blackness ; 
occasionally  a  lamp  revealed  the  milky-blue  fagade  of 
a  house.  This  was  France !  War-torn  France  —  at 
last  vividly  brought  home  to  us  when  a  glare  appeared 
on  the  sky,  growing  brighter  and  brighter  until,  at  a 
turn  of  the  river,  abruptly  we  came  abreast  of  vomit- 
ing furnaces,  thousands  of  electric  lights  strung  like 
beads  over  the  crest  of  a  hill,  and,  below  these,  dim 
rows  of  houses,  all  of  a  sameness,  stretching  along 
monotonous  streets.  A  munitions  town  in  the  night ! 
One  could  have  tossed  a  biscuit  on  the  stone  wharfs 
where  the  workmen,  crouching  over  their  tasks,  straight- 
ened up  at  sight  of  us  and  cheered.  And  one  cried  out 
hoarsely,  "  Vous  venez  nous  sauver,  vous  Americains  " 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  13 

— "  You  come  to  save  us  " —  an  exclamation  I  was  to 
hear  again  in  the  days  that  followed. 

Ill 

All  day  long,  as  the  rapide  hurried  us  through  the 
smiling  wine  country  and  past  the  well-remembered 
chateaux  of  the  Loire,  we  wondered  how  we  should  find 
Paris  —  beautiful  Paris,  saved  from  violation  as  by  a 
miracle !  Our  first  discovery,  after  we  had  pushed  our 
way  out  of  the  dim  station  into  the  obscurity  of  the 
street,  was  that  of  the  absence  of  taxi-cabs.  The  horse- 
drawn  buses  ranged  along  the  curb  were  reserved  for 
the  foresighted  and  privileged  few.  Men  and  women 
were  rushing  desperately  about  in  search  of  conveyances, 
and  in  the  midst  of  this  confusion,  undismayed,  debon- 
nair,  I  spied  a  rugged,  slouch-hatted  figure  standing  un- 
der a  lamp  —  the  unmistakable  American  soldier. 

"  Aren't  there  any  cabs  in  Paris  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes,  they  tell  me  they're  here,"  he  said.  "  I've 
given  a  man  a  dollar  to  chase  one." 

Evidently  one  of  our  millionaire  privates  who  have 
aroused  such  burnings  in  the  heart  of  the  French  poilu, 
with  his  five  sous  a  day!  We  left  him  there,  and 
staggered  across  the  Seine  with  our  bags.  A  French 
officer  approached  us.  "  You  come  from  America,"  he 
said.  "Let  me  help  you."  There  was  just  enough 


14  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

light  in  the  streets  to  prevent  us  from  getting  utterly 
lost,  and  we  recognized  the  dark  mass  of  the  Tuileries 
as  we  crossed  the  gardens.  The  hotel  we  sought  was 
still  there,  and  its  menu,  save  for  the  war-bread  and  the 
tiny  portion  of  sugar,  as  irreproachable  as  ever. 

The  next  morning,  as  if  by  magic,  hundreds  of  taxis 
had  sprung  into  existence,  though  they  were  much  in 
demand.  And  in  spite  of  the  soldiers  thronging  the 
sunlit  streets,  Paris  was  seemingly  the  same  Paris  one 
had  always  known,  gay  —  insouciante,  pleasure-bent. 
The  luxury  shops  appeared  to  be  thriving,  the  world- 
renowned  restaurants  to  be  doing  business  as  usual;  to 
judge  from  the  prices,  a  little  better  than  usual;  the 
expensive  hotels  were  full.  It  is  not  the  real  France, 
of  course,  yet  it  seemed  none  the  less  surprising  that  it 
should  still  exist.  Oddly  enough  the  presence  of  such 
overwhelming  numbers  of  soldiers  should  have  failed 
to  strike  the  note  of  war,  emphasized  that  of  lavishness, 
of  the  casting  off  of  mundane  troubles  for  which  the 
French  capital  has  so  long  been  known.  But  so  it  was. 
Most  of  these  soldiers  were  here  precisely  with  the  ob- 
ject of  banishing  from  their  minds  the  degradations  and 
horrors  of  the  region  from  which  they  had  come,  and 
which  was  so  unbelievably  near;  a  few  hours  in  an 
automobile  —  less  than  that  in  one  of  those  dragon-fly 
machines  we  saw  intermittently  hovering  in  the  blue 
above  our  heads ! 


A  TEAVELLEE  IN  WAE-TIME  15 

Paris,  to  most  Americans,  means  that  concentrated 
little  district  de  luxe  of  which  the  Place  Vendome  is  the 
centre,  and  we  had  always  unconsciously  thought  of  it 
as  in  the  possession  of  the  Anglo-Saxons.  So  it  seems 
today.  One  saw  hundreds  of  French  soldiers,  of  course, 
in  all  sorts  of  uniforms,  from  the  new  grey  blue  and 
visor  to  the  traditional  cloth  blouse  and  kepi;  once  in 
a  while  a  smart  French  officer.  The  English  and  Cana- 
dians, the  Australians,  New  Zealanders,  and  Americans 
were  much  in  evidence.  Set  them  down  anywhere  on 
the  face  of  the  globe,  under  any  conditions  conceivable, 
and  you  could  not  surprise  them ;  such  was  the  impres- 
sion. The  British  officers  and  even  the  British  Tommies 
were  blase,  wearing  the  air  of  the  semaine  Anglaise,  and 
the  "  five  o'clock  tea,"  as  the  French  delight  to  call  it. 
That  these  could  have  come  direct  from  the  purgatory 
of  the  trenches  seemed  unbelievable.  The-Anzacs,  with 
looped-up  hats,  strolled  about,  enjoying  themselves, 
halting  before  the  shops  in  the  Eue  de  la  Paix  to  gaze 
at  the  priceless  jewellery  there,  or  stopping  at  a  sidewalk 
cafe  to  enjoy  a  drink.  Our  soldiers  had  not  seen  the 
front ;  many  of  them,  no  doubt,  were  on  leave  from  the 
training-camps,  others  were  on  duty  in  Paris,  but  all 
seemed  in  a  hurry  to  get  somewhere,  bound  for  a  defi- 
nite destination.  They  might  have  been  in  New  York 
or  San  Francisco.  It  was  a  novel  sight,  indeed,  to 
observe  them  striding  across  the  Place  Vendome  with- 


16  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

out  so  much  as  deigning  to  cast  a  glance  at  the  column 
dedicated  to  the  great  emperor  who  fought  that  other 
world-war  a  century  ago;  to  see  our  square-shouldered 
officers  hustling  around  corners  in  Ford  and  Packard 
automobiles.  And  the  atmosphere  of  our  communica- 
tion headquarters  was  so  essentially  one  of  "  getting 
things  done  "  as  to  make  one  forget  the  mediaeval  nar- 
rowness of  the  Rue  Sainte  Anne,  and  the  inconvenient 
French  private-dwelling  arrangements  of  the  house. 
You  were  transported  back  to  America.  Such,  too,  was 
the  air  of  our  Red  Cross  establishment  in  the  ancient 
building  facing  the  Palace  de  la  Concorde,  where  the 
unfortunate  Louis  lost  his  head. 

History  had  been  thrust  into  the  background.  I  was 
never  more  aware  of  this  than  when,  shortly  after  dawn 
Wednesday,  the  massive  grey  pile  of  the  Palace  of 
Versailles  suddenly  rose  before  me.  As  the  motor  shot 
through  the  empty  Place  d'Armes  I  made  a  desperate 
attempt  to  summon  again  a  vivid  impression,  when  I 
had  first  stood  there  many  years  ago,  of  an  angry  Paris 
mob  beating  against  that  grill,  of  the  Swiss  guards  dying 
on  the  stairway  for  their  Queen.  But  it  was  no  use. 
France  has  undergone  some  subtle  change,  yet  I  knew  I 
was  in  France.  I  knew  it  when  we  left  Paris  and  sped 
through  the  dim  leafy  tunnels  of  the  Bois;  when  I  be- 
held a  touch  of  filtered  sunlight  on  the  dense  blue  thatch 
of  the  marroniers  behind  the  walls  of  a  vast  estate  once 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  17 

dedicated  to  the  sports  and  pleasures  of  Kings ;  when  I 
caught  glimpses  of  silent  chateaux  mirrored  in  still 
waters. 

I  was  on  my  way,  with  one  of  our  naval  officers,  to 
visit  an  American  naval  base  on  the  western  coast.  It 
was  France,  but  the  laughter  had  died  on  her  lips.  A 
few  women  and  old  men  and  children  were  to  be  seen 
in  the  villages,  a  bent  figure  in  a  field,  an  occasional 
cart  that  drew  aside  as  we  hurried  at  eighty  kilometers 
an  hour  along  deserted  routes  drawn  as  with  a  ruler 
across  the  land.  Sometimes  the  road  dipped  into  a 
canyon  of  poplars,  and  the  sky  between  their  crests  was 
a  tiny  strip  of  mottled  blue  and  white.  The  sun  crept 
in  and  out,  the  clouds  cast  shadows  on  the  hills;  here 
and  there  the  tower  of  lonely  church  or  castle  broke  the 
line  of  a  distant  ridge.  Morning-glories  nodded  over 
lodge  walls  where  the  ivy  was  turning  crimson,  and  the 
little  gardens  were  masses  of  colours  —  French  colours 
like  that  in  the  beds  of  the  Tuileries,  brick-red  gerani- 
ums and  dahlias,  yellow  marigolds  and  purple  asters. 

We  lunched  at  one  of  the  little  inns  that  for  genera- 
tions have  been  tucked  away  in  the  narrow  streets  of 
provincial  towns;  this  time  a  Cheval  Blanc,  with  an 
unimposing  front  and  a  blaze  of  sunshine  in  its  heart. 
After  a  dejeuner  fit  for  the  most  exacting  of  bon  viveurs 
we  sat  in  that  courtyard  and  smoked,  while  an  ancient 
waiter  served  us  with  coffee  that  dripped  through  silver 


18  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

percolators  into  our  glasses.  The  tourists  have  fled. 
"  If  happily  you  should  come  again,  monsieur,"  said 
madame,  as  she  led  me  with  pardonable  pride  through 
her  immaculate  bedrooms  and  salons  with  wavy  floors. 
And  I  dwelt  upon  a  future  holiday  there,  on  the  joys  of 
sharing  with  a  friend  that  historic  place.  The  next 
afternoon  I  lingered  in  another  town,  built  on  a  little 
hill  ringed  about  with  ancient  walls,  from  whose  battle- 
ments tide-veined  marshes  stretched  away  to  a  gleaming 
sea.  A  figure  flitting  through  the  cobbled  streets,  a 
woman  in  black  who  sat  sewing,  sewing  in  a  window, 
only  served  to  heighten  the  impression  of  emptiness,  to 
give  birth  to  the  odd  fancy  that  some  alchemic  quality 
in  the  honeyed  sunlight  now  steeping  it  must  have  pre- 
served the  place  through  the  ages.  But  in  the  white 
close  surrounding  the  church  were  signs  that  life  still 
persisted.  A  peasant  was  drawing  water  at  the  pump, 
and  the  handle  made  a  noise ;  a  priest  chatted  with  three 
French  ladies  who  had  come  over  from  a  neighbouring 
seaside  resort.  And  then  a  woman  in  deep  mourning 
emerged  from  a  tiny  shop  and  took  her  bicycle  from 
against  the  wall  and  spoke  to  me. 

"  Vous  etes  Americain,  monsieur?  " 

I  acknowledged  it. 

"  Vous  venez  nous  sauver?  " —  the  same  question  I 
had  heard  on  the  lips  of  the  workman  in  the  night.  "  I 
hope  so,  madame,"  I  replied,  and  would  have  added, 


British  Pictorial  Service. 
CHATEAU  OF  VERSAILLES 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  19 

"  We  come  also  to  save  ourselves."  She  looked  at  me 
with  sad,  questioning  eyes,  and  I  knew  that  for  her  — 
and  alas  for  many  like  her  —  we  were  too  late.  When 
she  had  mounted  her  wheel  arid  ridden  away  I  bought 
a  Matin  and  sat  down  on  a  doorstep  to  read  about  Keren- 
sky  and  the  Russian  Revolution.  The  thing  seemed  in- 
credible here  —  war  seemed  incredible,  and  yet  its 
tentacles  had  reached  out  to  this  peaceful  Old  World 
spot  and  taken  a  heavy  toll.  Once  more  I  sought  the 
ramparts,  only  to  be  reminded  by  those  crumbling,  ma- 
chicolated  ruins  that  I  was  in  a  war-ridden  land.  Few 
generations  had  escaped  the  pestilence. 

At  no  great  distance  lay  the  little  city  which  had 
been  handed  over  to  us  by  the  French  Government  for  a 
naval  base,  one  of  the  ports  where  our  troops  and  sup- 
plies are  landed.  Those  who  know  provincial  France 
will  visualize  its  narrow  streets  and  reticent  shops,  its 
grey-white  and  ecru  houses  all  more  or  less  of  the  same 
design,  with  long  French  windows  guarded  by  orna- 
mental balconies  of  cast  iron  —  a  city  that  has  never 
experienced  such  a  thing  as  a  real-estate  boom.  Im- 
agine, against  such  a  background,  the  bewildering  effect 
of  the  dynamic  presence  of  a  few  regiments  of  our  new 
army!  It  is  a  curious  commentary  on  this  war  that 
one  does  not  think  of  these  young  men  as  soldiers,  but  as 
citizens  engaged  in  a  scientific  undertaking  of  a  mag- 
nitude unprecedented.  You  come  unexpectedly  upon 


20  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

truck-loads  of  tanned  youngsters,  whose  features,  de- 
spite flannel  shirts  and  campaign  hats,  summon  up  mem- 
ories of  Harvard  Square  and  the  Yale  Yard,  of  campuses 
at  Berkeley  and  Ithaca.  The  youthful  drivers  of  these 
camions  are  alert,  intent,  but  a  hard  day's  work  on  the 
docks  by  no  means  suffices  to  dampen  the  spirits  of  the 
passengers,  who  whistle  ragtime  airs  as  they  bump  over 
the  cobbles.  And  the  note  they  strike  is  presently  sus- 
tained by  a  glimpse,  on  a  siding,  of  an  efficient-looking 
Baldwin,  ranged  alongside  several  of  the  tiny  French 
locomotives  of  yesterday;  sustained,  too,  by  an  ac- 
quaintance with  the  young  colonel  in  command  of  the 
town.  Though  an  officer  of  the  regular  army,  he  brings 
home  to  one  the  fact  that  the  days  of  the  military  mar- 
tinet have  gone  for  ever.  He  is  military,  indeed  —  erect 
and  soldierly  —  but  fortune  has  amazingly  made  him  a 
mayor  and  an  autocrat,  a  builder,  and  in  some  sense  a 
railway-manager  and  superintendent  of  docks.  And  to 
these  functions  have  been  added  those  of  police  com- 
missioner, of  administrator  of  social  welfare  and  hy- 
giene. It  will  be  a  comfort  to  those  at  home  to  learn 
that  their  sons  in  our  army  in  France  are  cared  for  as  no 
enlisted  men  have  ever  been  cared  for  before. 

IV 

By  the  end  of  September  I  had  reached  England, 
eager  to  gain  a  fresh  impression  of  conditions  there. 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  21 

The  weather  in  London  was  mild  and  clear.  The  third 
evening  after  I  had  got  settled  in  one  of  those  delight- 
fully English  hotels  in  the  heart  of  the  city,  yet  re- 
moved from  the  traffic,  with  letter-boxes  that  still  bear 
the  initials  of  Victoria,  I  went  to  visit  some  American 
naval  officers  in  their  sitting-room  on  the  ground  floor. 
The  cloth  had  not  been  removed  from  the  dinner-table, 
around  which  we  were  chatting,  when  a  certain  strange 
sound  reached  our  ears  —  a  sound  not  to  be  identified 
with  the  distant  roar  of  the  motor-busses  in  Pall  Mall, 
nor  with  the  sharp  bark  of  the  taxi-horns,  although  not 
unlike  them.  We  sat  listening  intently,  and  heard  the 
sound  again. 

"  The  Germans  have  come,"  one  of  the  officers  re- 
marked, as  he  finished  his  coffee.  The  other  looked  at 
his  watch.  It  was  nine  o'clock.  "  They  must  have  left 
their  lines  about  seven,"  he  said. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  our  newspapers  at  home  had 
made  me  familiar  with  these  aeroplane  raids,  as  I  sat 
there,  amidst  those  comfortable  surroundings,  the  thing 
seemed  absolutely  incredible.  To  fly  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  across  the  Channel  and  southern  England, 
bomb  London,  and  fly  back  again  by  midnight!  We 
were  going  to  be  bombed !  The  anti-aircraft  guns  were 
already  searching  the  sky  for  the  invaders.  It  is  sinis- 
ter, and  yet  you  are  seized  by  an  overwhelming  curiosity 
that  draws  you,  first  to  pull  aside  the  heavy  curtains  of 


22  A  TEAVELLEK  IN  WAR-TIME 

the  window,  and  then  to  rush  out  into  the  dark  street  — 
both  proceedings  in  the  worst  possible  form!  The  lit- 
tle street  was  deserted,  but  in  Pall  Mall  the  dark  forms 
of  busses  could  be  made  out  scurrying  for  shelter,  one 
wondered  where  ?  Above  the  roar  of  London,  the  pop ! 
pop!  pop!  of  the  defending  guns  could  be  heard  now 
almost  continuously,  followed  by  the  shrieks  and  moans 
of  the  shrapnel  shells  as  they  passed  close  overhead. 
They  sounded  like  giant  rockets,  and  even  as  rockets 
some  of  them  broke  into  a  cascade  of  sparks.  Star  shells 
they  are  called,  bursting,  it  seemed,  among  the  immuta- 
ble stars  themselves  that  burned  serenely  on.  And 
there  were  other  stars  like  November  meteors  hurrying 
across  space  —  the  lights  of  the  British  planes  scouring 
the  heavens  for  their  relentless  enemies.  Everywhere 
the  restless  white  rays  of  the  searchlights  pierced  the 
darkness,  seeking,  but  seeking  in  vain.  Not  a  sign  of 
the  intruders  was  to  be  seen.  I  was  induced  to  return 
to  the  sitting-room. 

"  But  what  are  they  shooting  at  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Listen,"  said  one  of  the  officers.  There  came  a  lull 
in  the  firing  and  then  a  faint,  droning  noise  like  the 
humming  of  insects  on  a  still  summer  day.  "  It's  all 
they  have  to  shoot  at,  that  noise." 

"  But  their  own  planes  ?  "  I  objected. 

"  The  Gotha  has  two  engines,  it  has  a  slightly  dif- 
ferent noise,  when  you  get  used  to  it.  You'd  better  step 


A  TEAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  23 

out  of  that  window.  It's  against  the  law  to  show  light, 
and  if  a  bomb  falls  in  the  street  you'd  be  filled  with 
glass."  I  overcame  my  fascination  and  obeyed.  "  It 
isn't  only  the  bombs,"  my  friend  went  on,  "  it's  the 
falling  shrapnel,  too." 

The  noise  made  by  those  bombs  is  unmistakable,  un- 
forgetable,  and  quite  distinct  from  the  chorus  of  the 
guns  and  shrapnel  —  a  crashing  note,  reverberating,  sus- 
tained, like  the  E  minor  of  some  giant  calliope. 

In  face  of  the  raids,  which  coincide  with  the  coming 
of  the  moon,  London  is  calm,  but  naturally  indignant 
over  such  methods  of  warfare.  The  damage  done  is 
ridiculously  small ;  the  percentage  of  deaths  and  injuries 
insignificant.  There  exists,  in  every  large  city,  a  riff- 
raff to  get  panicky:  these  are  mostly  foreigners;  they 
seek  the  Tubes,  and  some  the  crypt  of  St.  Paul's,  for  it 
is  wise  to  get  under  shelter  during  the  brief  period  of 
the  raids,  and  most  citizens  obey  the  warnings  of  the 
police.  It  is  odd,  indeed,  that  more  people  are  not  hurt 
by  shrapnel.  The  Friday  following  the  raid  I  have 
described  I  went  out  of  town  for  a  week-end,  and  re- 
turned on  Tuesday  to  be  informed  that  a  shell  had  gone 
through  the  roof  outside  of  the  room  I  had  vacated, 
and  the  ceiling  and  floor  of  the  bedroom  of  one  of  the 
officers  who  lived  below.  He  was  covered  with  dust 
and  debris,  his  lights  went  out,  but  he  calmly  stepped 
through  the  window.  "  You'd  best  have  your  dinner 


24  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

early,  sir,"  I  was  told  by  the  waiter  on  my  return. 
"  Last  night  a  lady  had  her  soup  up-stairs,  her  chicken 
in  the  office,  and  her  coffee  in  the  cellar."  It  is  worth 
while  noting  that  she  had  all  three.  Another  evening, 
when  I  was  dining  with  Sir  James  Barrie,  he  showed  me 
a  handful  of  shrapnel  fragments.  "  I  gathered  them 
off  the  roof,"  he  informed  me.  And  a  lady  next  to 
whom  I  sat  at  luncheon  told  me  in  a  matter-of-fact  tone 
that  a  bomb  had  fallen  the  night  before  in  the  garden  of 
her  town  house.  "  It  was  quite  disagreeable,"  she  said, 
"  and  broke  all  our  windows  on  that  side." 

During  the  last  raids  before  the  moon  disappeared,  by 
a  new  and  ingenious  system  of  barrage  fire  the  Germans 
were  driven  off.  The  question  of  the  ethics  of  reprisals 
is  agitating  London. 

One  "  raid,"  which  occurred  at  midday,  is  worth  re- 
cording. I  was  on  my  way  to  our  Embassy  when,  in 
the  residential  quarter  through  which  I  passed,  I  found 
all  the  housemaids  in  the  areas  gazing  up  at  the  sky, 
and  I  was  told  by  a  man  in  a  grocer's  cart  that  the  Huns 
had  come  again.  But  the  invader  on  this  occasion 
turned  out  to  be  a  British  aviator  from  one  of  the  camps 
who  was  bringing  a  message  to  London.  The  warmth 
of  his  reception  was  all  that  could  be  desired,  and  he 
alighted  hastily  in  the  first  open  space  that  presented 
itself. 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  25 

Looking  back  to  the  time  when  I  left  America,  I  can 
recall  the  expectation  of  finding  a  Britain  beginning  to 
show  signs  of  distress.  I  was  prepared  to  live  on  a 
small  ration.  And  the  impression  of  the  scarcity  of 
food  was  seemingly  confirmed  when  the  table  was  being 
set  for  the  first  meal  at  my  hotel ;  when  the  waiter,  who 
chanced  to  be  an  old  friend,  pointed  to  a  little  bowl 
half -full  of  sugar  and  exclaimed :  "  I  ought  to  warn 
you,  sir,  it's  all  you're  to  have  for  a  week,  and  I'm 
sorry  to  say  you're  only  allowed  a  bit  of  bread,  too." 
It  is  human  perversity  to  want  a  great  deal  of  bread 
when  bread  becomes  scarce ;  even  war  bread,  which,  by 
the  way,  is  better  than  white.  But  the  rest  of  the 
luncheon,  when  it  came,  proved  that  John  Bull  was 
under  no  necessity  of  stinting  himself.  Save  for  wheat 
and  sugar,  he  is  not  in  want.  Everywhere  in  London 
you  are  confronted  by  signs  of  an  incomprehensible 
prosperity;  everywhere,  indeed,  in  Great  Britain. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  about  that  of  the  wage-earners 
—  nothing  like  it  has  ever  been  seen  before.  One  sure 
sign  of  this  is  the  phenomenal  sale  of  pianos  to  house- 
holds whose  occupants  had  never  dreamed  of  such  lux- 
uries. And  not  once,  but  many  times,  have  I  read  in 
the  newspapers  of  workingmen's  families  of  four  or  five 
which  are  gaining  collectively  more  than  five  hundred 
pounds  a  year.  The  economic  and  social  significance 


26  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

of  this  tendency,  the  new  attitude  of  the  working 
classes,  the  ferment  it  is  causing  need  not  be  dwelt  upon 
here.  That  England  will  be  a  changed  England  is  un- 
questionable. 

The  London  theatres  are  full,  the  "  movies  "  crowded, 
and  you  have  to  wait  your  turn  for  a  seat  at  a  restaurant. 
Bond  Street  and  Piccadilly  are  doing  a  thriving  busi- 
ness —  never  so  thriving,  you  are  told,  and  presently 
you  are  willing  to  believe  it.  The  vendor  beggars,  so 
familiar  a  sight  a  few  years  ago,  have  all  but  disap- 
peared, and  you  may  walk  from  Waterloo  Station  to  the 
Haymarket  without  so  much  as  meeting  a  needy  soul 
anxious  to  carry  your  bag.  Taxicabs  are  in  great  de- 
mand. And  one  odd  result  of  the  scarcity  of  what  the 
English  are  pleased  to  call  "  petrol/'  by  which  they 
mean  gasoline,  is  the  reappearance  of  that  respectable, 
but  almost  obsolete  animal,  the  family  carriage-horse ;  of 
that  equally  obsolete  vehicle,  the  victoria.  The  men  on 
the  box  are  invariably  in  black.  In  spite  of  taxes  to 
make  the  hair  of  an  American  turn  grey,  in  spite  of  lav- 
ish charities,  the  wealthy  classes  still  seem  wealthy  —  if 
the  expression  may  be  allowed.  That  they  are  not  so 
wealthy  as  they  were  goes  without  saying.  In  the  coun- 
try houses  of  the  old  aristocracy  the  most  rigid  economy 
prevails.  There  are  new  fortunes,  undoubtedly,  muni- 
tions and  war  fortunes  made  before  certain  measures 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  27 

were  taken  to  control  profits;  and  some  establishments, 
including  a  few  supported  by  American  accumulations, 
still  exhibit  the  number  of  men  servants  and  amount  of 
gold  plate  formerly  thought  adequate.  But  in  most  of 
these  great  houses  maids  have  replaced  tbe  butlers  and 
footmen ;  mansions  have  been  given  over  for  hospitals ; 
gardeners  are  fighting  in  the  trenches,  and  courts  and 
drives  of  country  places  are  often  overgrown  with  grass 
and  weeds. 

"  Yes,  we  do  dine  in  public  quite  often,"  said  a  very 
great  lady.  "  It's  cheaper  than  keeping  servants." 

Two  of  her  three  sons  had  been  killed  in  France, 
but  she  did  not  mention  this.  The  English  do  not 
advertise  their  sorrows.  Still  another  explanation: 
when  husbands  and  sons  and  brothers  come  back  across 
the  Channel  for  a  few  days'  leave  after  long  months  in 
the  trenches,  nothing  is  too  good  for  them.  And  when 
these  days  have  flown,  there  is  always  the  possibility  that 
there  may  never  be  another  leave.  Not  long  ago  I  read 
a  heart-rending  article  about  the  tragedies  of  the  good- 
byes in  the  stations  and  the  terminal  hotels  —  tragedies 
hidden  by  silence  and  a  smile.  "  Well,  so  long,"  says 
an  officer  — "  bring  back  a  V.  C.,"  cries  his  sister  from 
the  group  on  the  platform,  and  he  waves  his  hand  in 
deprecation  as  the  train  pulls  out,  lights  his  pipe,  and 
pretends  to  be  reading  the  Sphere. 


28  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

Some  evening,  perchance,  you  happen  to  be  in  the 
dark  street  outside  of  Charing  Cross  station.  An  oc- 
casional hooded  lamp  throws  a  precarious  gleam  on  a 
long  line  of  men  carrying  —  so  gently  —  stretchers  on 
which  lie  the  silent  forms  of  rich  and  poor  alike. 


CHAPTER  II 


CHAPTER  II 


FOR  the  student  of  history  who  is  able  to  place  him- 
self within  the  stream  of  evolution  the  really  im- 
portant events  of  today  are  not  taking  place  on  the 
battle  lines,  but  behind  them.  The  key-note  of  the  new 
era  has  been  struck  in  Russia.  And  as  I  write  these 
words,  after  the  Italian  retreat,  a  second  revolution 
seems  possible.  For  three  years  one  has  thought  in- 
evitably of  1789,  and  of  the  ensuing  world  conflict  out  of 
which  issued  the  beginnings  of  democracy.  History 
does  not  repeat  itself,  yet  evolution  is  fairly  consistent. 
While  our  attention  has  been  focused  on  the  military 
drama  enacted  before  our  eyes  and  recorded  in  the  news- 
papers, another  drama,  unpremeditated  but  of  vastly 
greater  significance,  is  unfolding  itself  behind  the  stage. 
Never  in  the  history  of  the  world  were  generals  and  ad- 
mirals, statesmen  and  politicians  so  sensitive  to  or  con- 
cerned about  public  opinion  as  they  are  today. 

From  a  military  point  of  view  the  situation  of  the 
Allies  at  the  present  writing  is  far  from  reassuring. 

Germany  and  her  associates  have  the  advantage  of  in- 

31 


32  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

terior  lines,  of  a  single  dominating  and  purposeful  lead- 
ership, while  our  five  big  nations,  democracies  or  semi- 
democracies,  are  stretched  in  a  huge  ring  with  pre- 
carious connections  on  land,  with  the  submarine  alert 
on  the  sea.  Much  of  their  territory  is  occupied.  They 
did  not  seek  the  war;  they  still  lack  co-ordination  and 
leadership  in  waging  it.  In  some  of  these  countries,  at 
least,  politicians  and  statesmen  are  so  absorbed  by  ad- 
ministrative duties,  by  national  rather  than  interna- 
tional problems,  by  the  effort  to  sustain  themselves,  that 
they  have  little  time  for  allied  strategy.  Governments 
rise  and  fall,  familiar  names  and  reputations  are  jug- 
gled about  like  numbered  balls  in  a  shaker,  come  to  the 
top  to  be  submerged  again  in  a  new  emeute.  There  are 
conferences  and  conferences  without  end.  Meanwhile  a 
social  ferment  is  at  work,  in  Russia  conspicuously,  in 
Italy  a  little  less  so,  in  Germany  and  Austria  undoubt- 
edly, in  France  and  England,  and  even  in  our  own 
country  —  once  of  the  most  radical  in  the  world,  now 
become  the  most  conservative ! 

What  form  will  the  social  revolution  take  ?  Will  it  be 
unbridled,  unguided ;  will  it  run  through  a  long  period 
of  anarchy  before  the  fermentation  begun  shall  have 
been  completed,  or  shall  it  be  handled,  in  all  the  nations 
concerned,  by  leaders  who  understand  and  sympathize 
with  the  evolutionary  trend,  who  are  capable  of  con- 
.  trolling  it,  of  taking  the  necessary  international  steps  of 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  33 

co-operation  in  order  that  it  may  become  secure  and 
mutually  beneficial  to  all  ?  This  is  an  age  of  co-opera- 
tion, and  in  this  at  least,  if  not  in  other  matters,  the 
United  States  of  America  is  in  an  ideal  position  to 
assume  the  leadership. 

To  a  certain  extent,  one  is  not  prepared  to  say  how 
far,  the  military  and  social  crises  are  interdependent. 
And  undoubtedly  the  military  problem  rests  on  the  sup- 
pression of  the  submarine.  If  Germany  continues  to 
destroy  shipping  on  the  seas,  if  we  are  not  able  to  supply 
our  new  armies  and  the  Allied  nations  with  food  and 
other  things,  the  increasing  social  ferment  will  paralyze 
the  military  operations  of  the  Entente.  The  result  of 
a  German  victory  under  such  circumstances  is  impossible 
to  predict ;  but  the  chances  are  certainly  not  worth  run- 
ning. In  a  sense,  therefore,  in  a  great  sense,  the  sit- 
uation is  "  up  "  to  us  in  more  ways  than  one,  not  only 
to  supply  wise  democratic  leadership  but  to  contribute 
material  aid  and  brains  in  suppressing  the  submarine, 
and  to  build  ships  enough  to  keep  Britain,  France,  and 
Italy  from  starving.  We  are  looked  upon  by  all  the 
Allies,  and  I  believe  justly,  as  being  a  disinterested  na- 
tion, free  from  the  age-long  jealousies  of  Europe.  And 
we  can  do  much  in  bringing  together  and  making  more 
purposeful  the  various  elements  represented  by  the  na- 
tions to  whose  aid  we  have  come. 

I  had  not  intended  in  these  early  papers  to  comment, 


34  A  TEAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

but  to  confine  myself  to  such  of  my  experiences  abroad 
as  might  prove  interesting  and  somewhat  illuminating. 
So  much  I  cannot  refrain  from  saying. 

II 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  praise  where  praise  is  due,  and 
too  much  cannot  be  said  of  the  personnel  of  our  naval 
service  —  something  of  which  I  can  speak  from  inti- 
mate personal  experience.  In  these  days,  in  that  part 
of  London  near  the  Admiralty,  you  may  chance  to  run 
across  a  tall,  erect,  and  broad-shouldered  man  in  blue 
uniform  with  three  stars  on  his  collar,  striding  rapidly 
along  the  sidewalk,  and  sometimes,  in  his  haste,  cutting 
across  a  street.  People  smile  at  him  —  costermongers, 
clerks,  and  shoppers  —  and  whisper  among  themselves, 
"  There  goes  the  American  admiral !  "  and  he  invariably 
smiles  back  at  them,  especially  at  the  children.  He  is 
an  admiral,  every  inch  a  seaman,  commanding  a  devoted 
loyalty  from  his  staff  and  from  the  young  men  who  are 
scouring  the  seas  with  our  destroyers.  In  France  as 
well  as  in  England  the  name  Sims  is  a  household  word, 
and  if  he  chose  he  might  be  feted  every  day  of  the  week. 
He  does  not  choose.  He  spends  long  hours  instead  in 
the  quarters  devoted  to  his  administration  in  Grosvenor 
Gardens,  or  in  travelling  in  France  and  Ireland  super- 
vising the  growing  forces  under  his  command. 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  35 

It  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  relate  a  characteristic 
story  of  Admiral  Sims,  whose  career  in  our  service, 
whose  notable  contributions  to  naval  gunnery  are  too 
well  known  to  need  repetition.  Several  years  ago,  on 
a  memorable  trip  to  England,  he  was  designated  by  the 
admiral  of  the  fleet  to  be  present  at  a  banquet  given  our 
sailors  in  the  Guildhall.  Of  course  the  lord  mayor 
called  upon  him  for  a  speech,  but  Commander  Sims  in- 
sisted that  a  bluejacket  should  make  the  address. 
"  What,  a  bluejacket!"  exclaimed  the  lord  mayor  in 
astonishment.  "  Do  bluejackets  make  speeches  in  your 
country  ?  "  "  Certainly  they  do,"  said  Sims.  "  Now 
there's  a  fine-looking  man  over  there,  a  quartermaster 
on  my  ship.  Let's  call  on  him  and  see  what  he  has 
to  say."  The  quartermaster,  duly  summoned,  rose  with 
aplomb  and  delivered  himself  of  a  speech  that  made  the 
hall  ring,  that  formed  the  subject  of  a  puzzled  and 
amazed  comment  by  the  newspapers  of  the  British 
Capital.  Nor  was  it  ever  divulged  that  Commander 
Sims  had  foreseen  the  occasion  and  had  picked  out  the 
impressive  quartermaster  to  make  a  reputation  for  ora- 
tory for  the  enlisted  force. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  add  that 
there  were  and  are  other  non-commissioned  officers  and 
enlisted  men  in  the  service  who  could  have  acquitted 
themselves  equally  well.  One  has  only  to  attend  some 
of  their  theatrical  performances  to  be  assured  of  it. 


36  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

But  to  the  European  mind  our  bluejacket  is  still  some- 
thing of  an  anomaly.  He  is  a  credit  to  our  public 
schools,  a  fruit  of  our  system  of  universal  education. 
And  he  belongs  to  a  service  in  which  are  reconciled, 
paradoxically,  democracy  and  discipline.  One  moment 
you  may  hear  a  bluejacket  talking  to  an  officer  as  man 
to  man,  and  the  next  you  will  see  him  salute  and  obey 
an  order  implicitly. 

On  a  wet  and  smoky  night  I  went  from  the  London 
streets  into  the  brightness  and  warmth  of  that  refuge 
for  American  soldiers  and  sailors,  the  "  Eagle  Hut,"  as 
the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  is  called.  The  place  was  full,  as  usual, 
but  my  glance  was  at  once  attracted  by  three  strapping, 
intelligent-looking  men  in  sailor  blouses  playing  pool 
in  a  corner.  "  I  simply  can't  get  used  to  the  fact  that 
people  like  that  are  ordinary  sailors,"  said  the  lady  in 
charge  to  me  as  we  leaned  against  the  soda-fountain. 
"  They're  a  continual  pride  and  delight  to  us  Americans 
here  —  always  so  willing  to  help  when  there's  anything 
to  be  done,  and  so  interesting  to  talk  to."  When  I  sug- 
gested that  her  ideas  of  the  navy  must  have  been  derived 
from  Pinafore  she  laughed.  "  I  can't  imagine  using 
a  cat-o'-nine-tails  on  them !  "  she  exclaimed  —  and  nei- 
ther could  I.  I  heard  many  similar  comments.  They 
are  indubitably  American,  these  sailors,  youngsters  with 
the  stamp  of  our  environment  on  their  features,  keen 
and  self-reliant.  I  am  not  speaking  now  only  of  those 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  37 

who  have  enlisted  since  the  war,  but  of  those  others, 
largely  from  the  small  towns  and  villages  of  our  Middle 
West,  who  in  the  past  dozen  years  or  so  have  been  re- 
cruited by  an  interesting  and  scientific  system  which  is 
the  result  of  the  genius  of  our  naval  recruiting  officers. 
In  the  files  at  Washington  may  be  seen,  carefully  tab- 
ulated, the  several  reasons  for  their  enlisting.  Some 
have  "  friends  in  the  service  " ;  others  wish  to  "  perfect 
themselves  in  a  trade,"  to  "  complete  their  education  " 
or  "  see  the  world  "  —  our  adventurous  spirit.  And 
they  are  seeing  it. 

They  are  also  engaged  in  the  most  exciting  and  adven- 
turous sport  —  with  the  exception  of  aerial  warfare  — 
ever  devised  or  developed  —  that  of  hunting  down  in 
all  weathers  over  the  wide  spaces  of  the  Atlantic  those 
modern  sea  monsters  that  prey  upon  the  Allied  ship- 
ping. For  the  superdreadnought  is  reposing  behind 
the  nets,  the  battle-cruiser  ignominiously  laying  mines ; 
and  for  the  present  at  least,  until  some  wizard  shall 
invent  a  more  effective  method  of  annihilation,  victory 
over  Germany  depends  primarily  on  the  airplane  and 
the  destroyer. 

At  three  o'clock  one  morning  I  stood  on  the  crowded 
deck  of  an  Irish  mail-boat  watching  the  full  moon  riding 
over  Holyhead  Mountain  and  shimmering  on  the  Irish 
Sea.  A  few  hours  later,  in  the  early  light,  I  saw  the 
green  hills  of  Killarney  against  a  washed  and  clearing 


38  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

sky,  the  mud-flats  beside  the  railway  shining  like  purple 
enamel.  All  the  forenoon,  in  the  train,  I  travelled 
through  a  country  bathed  in  translucent  colours,  a 
country  of  green  pastures  dotted  over  with  white  sheep, 
of  banked  hedges  and  perfect  trees,  of  shadowy  blue 
hills  in  the  high  distance.  It  reminded  one  of  nothing 
so  much  as  a  stained-glass  window  depicting  some 
delectable  land  of  plenty  and  peace.  And  it  was  Ire- 
land !  When  at  length  I  arrived  at  the  station  of  the 
port  for  which  I  was  bound,  and  which  the  censor  does 
not  permit  me  to  name,  I  caught  sight  of  the  figure 
of  our  Admiral  on  the  platform;  and  the  fact  that  I 
was  in  Ireland  and  not  in  Emmanuel's  Land  was 
brought  home  to  me  by  the  jolting  drive  we  took  on  an 
"  outside  car,"  the  admiral  perched  precariously  over 
one  wheel  and  I  over  the  other.  Winding  up  the  hill  by 
narrow  roads,  we  reached  the  gates  of  the  Admiralty 
House. 

The  house  sits,  as  it  were,  in  the  emperor's  seat  of 
the  amphitheatre  of  the  town,  overlooking  the  panorama 
of  a  perfect  harbour.  A  ring  of  emerald  hills  is  broken 
by  a  little  gap  to  seaward,  and  in  the  centre  is  a  min- 
iature emerald  isle.  The  ships  lying  at  anchor  seemed 
like  children's  boats  in  a  pond.  To  the  right,  where  a 
river  empties  in,  were  scattered  groups  of  queer,  rakish 
craft,  each  with  four  slanting  pipes  and  a  tiny  flag  float- 
ing from  her  halyards ;  a  flag  —  as  the  binoculars  re- 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  39 

vealed  —  of  crimson  bars  and  stars  on  a  field  of  blue. 
These  were  our  American  destroyers.  And  in  the  midst 
of  them,  swinging  to  the  tide,  were  the  big  "  mother 
ships  "  we  have  sent  over  to  nurse  them  when,  after 
many  days  and  nights  of  hazardous  work  at  sea,  they 
have  brought  their  flock  of  transports  and  merchantmen 
safely  to  port.  This  "  mothering  "  by  repair-ships  — 
which  are  merely  huge  machine-shops  afloat  —  this  trick 
of  keeping  destroyers  tuned  up  and  constantly  ready  for 
service  has  inspired  much  favourable  comment  from  oui* 
allies  in  the  British  service.  It  is  an  instance  of  our 
national  adaptability,  learned  from  an  experience  on 
long  coasts  where  navy-yards  are  not  too  handy.  Few 
landsmen  understand  how  delicate  an  instrument  the 
destroyer  is. 

A  service  so  hazardous,  demanding  as  it  does  such 
qualities  as  the  ability  to  make  instantaneous  decisions 
and  powers  of  mental  and  physical  endurance,  a  service 
so  irresistibly  attractive  to  the  young  and  adventurous, 
produces  a  type  of  officer  quite  unmistakable.  The  day 
I  arrived  in  London  from  France,  seeking  a  character- 
istically English  meal,  I  went  to  Simpson's  in  the 
Strand,  where  I  found  myself  seated  by  the  side  of 
two  very  junior  officers  of  the  British  navy.  It  ap- 
peared that  they  were  celebrating  what  was  left  of  a 
precious  leave.  At  a  neighbouring  table  they  spied  two 
of  our  officers,  almost  equally  youthful  "Let's  have 


40  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

'em  over,"  suggested  one  of  the  Britishers;  and  they 
were  "  had  "  over ;  he  raised  his  glass.  "  Here's  how 
—  as  you  say  in  America !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You 
destroyer  chaps  are  certainly  top  hole."  And  then  he 
added,  with  a  blush,  "  I  say,  I  hope  you  don't  think  I'm 
cheeking  you !  " 

I  saw  them  afloat,  I  saw  them  coming  ashore  in  that 
Irish  port,  these  young  destroyer  captains,  after  five 
wakeful  nights  at  sea,  weather-bitten,  clear-eyed, 
trained  down  to  the  last  ounce.  One,  with  whom  I 
had  played  golf  on  the  New  England  hills,  carried  his 
clubs  in  his  hand  and  invited  me  to  have  a  game  with 
him.  Another,  who  apologized  for  not  being  dressed 
at  noon  on  Sunday  —  he  had  made  the  harbour  at 
three  that  morning !  —  was  taking  his  racquet  out  of 
its  case,  preparing  to  spend  the  afternoon  on  the  hos- 
pitable courts  of  Admiralty  House  with  a  fellow  cap- 
tain and  two  British  officers.  He  was  ashamed  of 
his  late  rising,  but  when  it  was  suggested  that  some 
sleep  was  necessary  he  explained  that,  on  the  trip  just 
ended,  it  wasn't  only  the  submarines  that  kept  him 
awake.  "  When  these  craft  get  jumping  about  in  a 
seaway  you  can't  sleep  even  if  you  want  to."  He 
who  has  had  experience  with  them  knows  the  truth  of 
this  remark.  Incidentally,  though  he  did  not  mention 
it,  this  young  captain  was  one  of  three  who  had  been 
recommended  by  the  British  admiral  to  his  govern- 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  41 

ment  for  the  Distinguished  Service  Order.  The  cap- 
tain's report,  which  I  read,  is  terse,  and  needs  to  be 
visualized.  There  is  simply  a  statement  of  the  lat- 
itude and  longitude,  the  time  of  day,  the  fact  that 
the  wave  of  a  periscope  was  sighted  at  1,500  yards  by 
the  quartermaster  first  class  on  duty;  general  quar- 
ters rung,  the  executive  officer  signals  full  speed  ahead, 
the  commanding  officer  takes  charge  and  manoeuvres 
for  position  —  and  then  something  happens  which  the 
censor  may  be  fussy  about  mentioning.  At  any  rate, 
oil  and  other  things  rise  to  the  surface  of  the  sea, 
and  the  Germans  are  minus  another  submarine.  The 
chief  machinist's  mate,  however,  comes  in  for  special 
mention.  It  seems  that  he  ignored  the  ladder  and 
literally  fell  down  the  hatch,  dislocating  his  shoulder 
but  getting  the  throttle  wide  open  within  five  seconds ! 
In  this  town,  facing  the  sea,  is  a  street  lined  with 
quaint  houses  painted  in  yellows  and  browns  and 
greens,  and  under  each  house  the  kind  of  a  shop  that 
brings  back  to  the  middle-aged  delectable  memories  of 
extreme  youth  and  nickels  to  spend.  Up  and  down 
that  street  on  a  bright  Saturday  afternoon  may  be  seen 
our  Middle-Western  jackies  chumming  with  the  Brit- 
ish sailors  and  Tommies,  or  flirting  with  the  Irish 
girls,  or  gazing  through  the  little  panes  of  the  show- 
windows,  whose  enterprising  proprietors  have  imported 
from  the  States  a  popular  brand  of  chewing-gum  to 


42  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

make  us  feel  more  at  home.  In  one  of  these  shops, 
where  I  went  to  choose  a  picture  post-card,  I  caught 
sight  of  an  artistic  display  of  a  delicacy  I  had  thought 
long  obsolete  —  the  everlasting  gum-drop.  But  when 
I  produced  a  shilling  the  shopkeeper  shook  his  head. 
"  Sure,  every  day  the  sailors  are  wanting  to  buy  them 
off  me,  but  it's  for  ornament  I'm  keeping  them,"  he 
said.  "  There's  no  more  to  be  had  till  the  war  will 
be  over.  Eight  years  they're  here  now,  and  you 
wouldn't  get  a  tooth  in  them,  sir !  "  So  I  wandered 
out  again,  joined  the  admiral,  and  inspected  the  Blue- 
jackets' Club  by  the  water's  edge.  Nothing  one  sees, 
perhaps,  is  so  eloquent  of  the  change  that  has  taken 
place  in  the  life  and  fabric  of  our  navy.  If  you  are 
an  enlisted  man,  here  in  this  commodious  group  of 
buildings  you  can  get  a  good  shore  meal  and  entertain 
your  friends  among  the  Allies,  you  may  sleep  in  a  real 
bed,  instead  of  a  hammock,  you  may  play  pool,  or 
see  a  moving-picture  show,  or  witness  a  vaudeville 
worthy  of  professionals,  like  that  recently  given  in 
honour  of  the  visit  of  the  admiral  of  our  Atlantic 
fleet.  A  band  of  thirty  pieces  furnished  the  music, 
and  in  the  opinion  of  the  jackies  one  feature  alone  was 
lacking  to  make  the  entertainment  a  complete  success 
—  the  new  drop-curtain  had  failed  to  arrive  from 
London.  I  happened  to  be  present  when  this  curtain 
was  first  unrolled,  and  beheld  spread  out  before  me  a 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  43 

most  realistic  presentation  of  "  little  old  New  York," 
seen  from  the  North  River,  towering  against  blue 
American  skies.  And  though  I  have  never  been  over- 
fond  of  New  York,  that  curtain  in  that  place  gave  me 
a  sensation ! 

Such  is  the  life  of  our  officers  and  sailors  in  these 
strange  times  that  have  descended  upon  us.  Five  to 
eight  days  of  vigilance,  of  hardship  and  danger  —  in 
short,  of  war  —  and  then  three  days  of  relaxation  and 
enjoyment  in  clubs,  on  golf-courses  and  tennis-courts, 
barring  the  time  it  takes  to  clean  ship  and  paint.  There 
need  be  no  fear  that  the  war  will  be  neglected.  It  is 
eminently  safe  to  declare  that  our  service  will  be  true  to 
its  traditions. 

Ill 

"  Dogged  does  it "  ought  to  be  added  to  "  Dieu  et 
mon  droit "  and  other  devices  of  England.  On  a  day 
when  I  was  lunching  with  Mr.  Lloyd  George  in  the 
dining-room  at  10  Downing  Street  that  looks  out  over 
the  Horse  Guards'  Parade,  the  present  premier,  with  a 
characteristic  gesture,  flung  out  his  hand  toward  the 
portrait  of  a  young  man  in  the  panel  over  the  mantel. 
It  was  of  the  younger  Pitt,  who  had  taken  his  meals 
and  drunk  his  port  in  this  very  room  in  that  other  great 
war  a  hundred  years  ago.  The  news  of  Austerlitz, 
brought  to  him  during  his  illness,  is  said  to  have  killed 


44  A  TKAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

him.  But  England,  undismayed,  fought  on  for  a  dec- 
ade, and  won.  Mr.  Lloyd  George,  in  spite  of  burdens 
even  heavier  than  Pitt's,  happily  retains  his  health; 
and  his  is  the  indomitable  spirit  characteristic  of  the 
new  Britain  as  well  as  of  the  old.  For  it  is  a  new 
Britain  one  sees.  Mr.  Lloyd  George  is  prime  min- 
ister of  a  transformed  Britain,  a  Britain  modernized 
and  democratized.  Like  the  Englishman  who,  when 
he  first  witnessed  a  performance  of  "  Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin,"  cried  out,  "  How  very  unlike  the  home  life 
of  our  dear  Queen !  "  the  American  who  lunches  in 
Downing  Street  is  inclined  to  exclaim :  "  How  differ- 
ent from  Lord  North  and  Palmerston !  "  We  have,  I 
fear,  been  too  long  accustomed  to  interpret  Britain  in 
terms  of  these  two  ministers  and  of  what  they  repre- 
sented to  us  of  the  rule  of  a  George  the  Third  or  of  an 
inimical  aristocracy.  Three  out  of  the  five  men  who 
form  the  war  cabinet  of  an  empire  are  of  what  would 
once  have  been  termed  an  "  humble  origin."  One  was, 
if  I  am  not  mistaken,  born  in  Nova  Scotia.  General 
Smuts,  unofficially  associated  with  this  council,  not 
many  years  ago  was  in  arms  against  Britain  in  South 
Africa,  and  the  prime  minister  himself  is  the  son  of  a 
Welsh  tailor.  A  situation  that  should  mollify  the  most 
exacting  and  implacable  of  our  anti-British  democrats ! 
I  listened  to  many  speeches  and  explanations  of  the 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  45 

prejudice  that  existed  in  the  mind  of  the  dyed-in-the- 
wool  American  against  England,  and  the  reason  most 
frequently  given  was  the  "  school-book "  reason ;  our 
histories  kept  the  feeling  alive.  Now,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  the  histories  out  of  which  we  were  taught  made 
what  psychologists  would  call  "  action  patterns,"  or 
"  complexes,"  in  our  brains,  just  as  the  school-books 
have  made  similar  complexes  in  the  brains  of  German 
children  and  prepared  them  for  this  war.  But,  after 
all,  there  was  a  certain  animus  behind  the  histories. 
Boiled  down,  the  sentiment  was  one  against  the  rule 
of  a  hereditary  aristocracy,  and  our  forefathers  had 
it  long  before  the  separation  took  place.  The  Middle- 
Western  farmer  has  no  prejudice  against  France,  be- 
cause Erance  is  a  republic.  The  Erench  are  lovable, 
and  worthy  of  all  the  sympathy  and  affection  we  can 
give  them.  But  Britain  is  still  nominally  a  monarchy, 
and  our  patriot  thinks  of  its  people  very  much  as  the 
cowboy  used  to  regard  citizens  of  New  York.  They  all 
lived  on  Fifth  Avenue.  Eor  the  cowboy,  the  residents 
of  the  dreary  side  streets  simply  did  not  exist.  We 
have  been  wont  to  think  of  all  the  British  as  aristocrats, 
while  they  have  returned  the  compliment  by  visualizing 
all  Americans  as  plutocrats  —  despite  the  fact  that  one- 
tenth  of  our  population  is  said  to  own  nine-tenths  of 
all  our  wealth ! 

But  the  war  will  change  that,  is  already  changing  it. 


46  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

Tout  comprendre  c'est  tout  pardonner.  We  have  been 
soaked  in  the  same  common  law,  literature,  and  tradi- 
tions of  liberty  —  or  of  chaos,  as  one  likes.  Whether 
we  all  be  of  British  origin  or  not,  it  is  the  mind  that 
makes  the  true  patriot;  and  there  is  no  American  so 
dead  as  not  to  feel  a  thrill  when  he  first  sets  foot  on 
British  soil.  Our  school-teachers  felt  it  when  they  be- 
gan to  travel  some  twenty  years  ago,  and  the  thousands 
of  our  soldiers  who  pass  through  on  their  way  to  France 
are  feeling  it  today,  and  writing  home  about  it.  Our 
soldiers  and  sailors  are  being  cared  for  and  entertained 
in  England  just  as  they  would  be  cared  for  and  enter- 
tained at  home.  So  are  their  officers.  Not  long  ago 
one  of  the  finest  town  houses  in  London  was  donated  by 
the  owner  for  an  American  officers'  club,  the  funds  were 
raised  by  contributions  from  British  officers,  and  the 
club  was  inaugurated  by  the  King  and  Queen  —  and 
Admiral  Sims.  Hospitality  and  good-will  have  gone 
much  further  than  this.  Any  one  who  knows  London 
will  understand  the  sacredness  of  those  private  squares, 
surrounded  by  proprietary  residences,  where  every  tree 
and  every  blade  of  grass  has  been  jealously  guarded 
from  intrusion  for  a  oentury  or  more.  And  of  all  these 
squares  that  of  St.  James's  is  perhaps  the  most  exclu- 
sive, and  yet  it  is  precisely  in  St.  James's  there  is  to  be 
built  the  first  of  those  hotels  designed  primarily  for  the 


KING  GEORGE  AND  LLOYD  GEORGE  IN  CONVERSATION  WITH 
AN  AMERICAN  OFFICER 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  47 

benefit  of  American  officers,  where  they  can  get  a  good 
room  for  five  shillings  a  night  and  breakfast  at  a  rea- 
sonable price.  One  has  only  to  sample  the  war-time 
prices  of  certain  hostelries  to  appreciate  the  value  of 
this. 

On  the  first  of  four  unforgettable  days  during  which 
I  was  a  guest  behind  the  British  lines  in  France  the 
officer  who  was  my  guide  stopped  the  motor  in  the 
street  of  an  old  village,  beside  a  courtyard  surrounded 
by  ancient  barns. 

"  There  are  some  of  your  Americans,"  he  remarked. 

I  had  recognized  them,  not  by  their  uniforms  but 
by  their  type.  Despite  their  costumes,  which  were 
negligible,  they  were  eloquent  of  college  campuses  in 
every  one  of  our  eight  and  forty  States,  lean,  thin- 
hipped,  alert.  The  persistent  rains  had  ceased,  a 
dazzling  sunlight  made  that  beautiful  countryside  as 
bright  as  a  coloured  picture  post-card,  but  a  riotous 
cold  gale  was  blowing;  yet  all  wore  cotton  trousers 
that  left  their  knees  as  bare  as  Highlanders'  kilts. 
Above  these  some  had  on  sweaters,  others  brown  khaki 
tunics,  from  which  I  gathered  that  they  belonged  to 
the  officers'  training  corps.  They  were  drawn  up  on 
two  lines  facing  each  other  with  fixed  bayonets,  a  grim 
look  on  their  faces  that  would  certainly  have  put  any 


48          A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

Hun  to  flight.  Between  the  files  stood  an  unmistak- 
able Kipling  sergeant  with  a  crimson  face  and  a 
bristling  little  chestnut  moustache,  talking  like  a  ma- 
chine gun. 

"  Now,  then,  not  too  lidylike !  —  there's  a  Bosch  in 
front  of  you !  Run  'im  through !  Now,  then !  " 

The  lines  surged  forward,  out  went  the  bayonets, 
first  the  long  thrust  and  then  the  short,  and  then  a 
man's  gun  was  seized  and  by  a  swift  backward  twist 
of  the  arm  he  was  made  helpless. 

"  Do  you  feel  it  ?  "  asked  the  officer,  as  he  turned 
to  me.  I  did.  "  Up  and  down  your  spine,"  he  added, 
and  I  nodded.  "  Those  chaps  will  do,"  he  said.  He 
had  been  through  that  terrible  battle  of  the  Somme,  and 
he  knew.  So  had  the  sergeant. 

Presently  came  a  resting-spell.  One  of  the  squad 
approached  me,  whom  I  recognized  as  a  young  man  I 
had  met  in  the  Harvard  Union. 

"  If  you  write  about  this,"  he  said,  "  just  tell  our 
people  that  we're  going  to  take  that  sergeant  home  with 
us  when  the  war's  over.  He's  too  good  to  lose." 

IV 

It  is  trite  to  observe  that  democracies  are  organized 
—  if,  indeed,  they  are  organized  at  all  —  not  for  war 
but  for  peace.  And  nowhere  is  this  fact  more  appar- 
ent than  in  Britain.  Even  while  the  war  is  in  prog- 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  49 

ress  has  that  internal  democratic  process  of  evolution 
been  going  on,  presaging  profound  changes  in  the  social 
fabric.  And  these  changes  must  be  dealt  with  by 
statesmen,  must  be  guided  with  one  hand  while  the 
war  is  being  prosecuted  with  the  other.  The  task  is 
colossal.  In  no  previous  war  have  the  British  given 
more  striking  proof  of  their  inherent  quality  of  dogged- 
ness.  Greatness,  as  Confucius  said,  does  not  consist  in 
never  falling,  but  in  rising  every  time  you  fall.  The 
British  speak  with  appalling  frankness  of  their  blunders. 
They  are  fighting,  indeed,  for  the  privilege  of  making 
blunders  —  since  out  of  blunders  arise  new  truths  and 
discoveries  not  contemplated  in  German  philosophy. 
Am  erica  must  now  contribute  what  Britain  and 
France,  with  all  their  energies  and  resources  and  deter- 
mination, have  hitherto  been  unable  to  contribute.  It 
must  not  be  men,  money,  and  material  alone,  but  some 
quality  that  America  has  had  in  herself  during  her 
century  and  a  half  of  independent  self-realization. 
Mr.  Chesterton,  in  writing  about  the  American  Rev- 
olution, observes  that  the  real  case  for  the  colonists 
is  that  they  felt  that  they  could  be  something  which 
England  would  not  help  them  to  be.  It  is,  in  fact, 
the  only  case  for  separation.  What  may  be  called  the 
English  tradition  of  democracy,  which  we  inherit, 
grows  through  conflicts  and  differences,  through  exper- 
iments and  failures  and  successes,  toward  an  Intel- 


50  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

lectualized  unity, —  experiments  by  states,  experiments 
by  individuals,  a  widely  spread  development,  and  new 
contributions  to  the  whole. 

Democracy  has  arrived  at  the  stage  when  it  is  ceasing 
to  be  national  and  selfish. 

It  must  be  said  of  England,  in  her  treatment  of 
her  colonies  subsequent  to  our  Revolution,  that  she  took 
this  greatest  of  all  her  national  blunders  to  heart.  As  a 
result,  Canada  and  Australia  and  New  Zealand  have 
sent  their  sons  across  the  seas  to  fight  for  an  empire  that 
refrains  from  coercion;  while,  thanks  to  the  policy  of 
the  British  Liberals  —  which  was  the  expression  of  the 
sentiment  of  the  British  nation  —  we  have  the  spec- 
tacle today  of  a  Botha  and  a  Smuts  fighting  under  the 
Union  Jack. 

And  how  about  Ireland  ?  England  has  blundered 
there,  and  she  admits  it  freely.  They  exist  in  Eng- 
land who  cry  out  for  the  coercion  of  Ireland,  and  who 
at  times  have  almost  had  their  way.  But  to  do  this, 
of  course,  would  be  a  surrender  to  the  German  con- 
tentions, an  acknowledgment  of  the  wisdom  of  the 
German  methods  against  which  she  is  protesting  with 
all  her  might.  Democracy,  apparently,  must  blunder 
on  until  that  question  too,  is  solved. 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  51 


Many  of  those  picturesque  features  of  the  older 
England,  that  stir  us  by  their  beauty  and  by  the  sense 
of  stability  and  permanence  they  convey,  will  no  doubt 
disappear  or  be  transformed.  I  am  thinking  of  the 
great  estates,  some  of  which  date  from  Norman  times; 
I  am  thinking  of  the  aristocracy,  which  we  Americans 
repudiated  in  order  to  set  up  a  plutocracy  instead. 
Let  us  hope  that  what  is  fine  in  it  will  be  preserved, 
for  there  is  much.  By  the  theory  of  the  British  con- 
stitution —  that  unwritten  but  very  real  document  — 
in  return  for  honours,  emoluments,  and  titles,  the 
burden  of  government  has  hitherto  been  thrown  on 
a  class.  Nor  can  it  be  said  that  they  have  been  un- 
true to  their  responsibility.  That  class  developed  a 
tradition  and  held  fast  to  it;  and  they  had  a  foreign 
policy  that  guided  England  through  centuries  of  great- 
ness. Democracy  too  must  have  a  foreign  policy,  a 
tradition  of  service;  a  trained  if  not  hereditary  group 
to  guide  it  through  troubled  waters.  Even  in  an  in- 
telligent community  there  must  be  leadership.  And, 
if  the  world  will  no  longer  tolerate  the  old  theories,  a 
tribute  may  at  least  be  paid  to  those  who  from  con- 
viction upheld  them;  who  ruled,  perhaps  in  affluence, 
yet  were  also  willing  to  toil  and,  if  need  be,  to  die  for 
the  privilege. 


52  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

One  Saturday  afternoon,  after  watching  for  a  while 
the  boys  playing  fives  and  football  and  romping  over 
the  green  lawns  at  Eton,  on  my  way  to  the  head  mas- 
ter's rooms  I  paused  in  one  of  the  ancient  quads. 
My  eye  had  been  caught  by  a  long  column  of  names 
posted  there,  printed  in  heavy  black  letters.  Etona 
non  immemora!  Every  week  many  new  names  are 
added  to  those  columns.  On  the  walls  of  the  chapel 
and  in  other  quads  and  passages  may  be  found  tablets 
and  inscriptions  in  memory  of  those  who  have  died 
for  England  and  the  empire  in  by-gone  wars.  I  am 
told  that  the  proportion  of  Etonians  of  killed  to 
wounded  is  greater  than  that  of  any  other  public  school 
—  which  is  saying  a  great  deal.  They  go  back  across 
the  channel  and  back  again  until  their  names  appear  on 
the  last  and  highest  honour  list  of  the  school  and 
nation. 

In  one  of  the  hospitals  I  visited  lay  a  wounded  giant 
who  had  once  been  a  truckman  in  a  little  town  in  Kent. 
Incidentally,  in  common  with  his  neighbours,  he  had 
taken  no  interest  in  the  war,  which  had  seemed  as  re- 
mote to  him  as  though  he  had  lived  in  North  Da- 
kota. One  day  a  Zeppelin  dropped  a  bomb  on  that 
village,  whereupon  the  able-bodied  males  enlisted  to 
a  man,  and  he  with  them.  A  subaltern  in  his  com- 
pany was  an  Eton  boy.  "We  just  couldn't  think  of 
'im  as  an  orficer,  sir;  in  the  camps  'e  used  to  play 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  53 

with  us  like  a  child.  And  then  we  went  to  Erance. 
And  one  night  when  we  was  wet  to  the  skin  and  the 
Boschs  was  droppin'  shell  all  around  us  we  got  the 
word.  It  was  him  leaped  over  the  top  first  of  all, 
shouting  back  at  us  to  come  on.  He  tumbled  right 
back  and  died  in  my  arms,  'e  did,  as  I  was  climbin'  up 
after  'im.  I  shan't  ever  forget  'im." 

As  you  travel  about  in  these  days  you  become  con- 
scious, among  the  people  you  meet,  of  a  certain  be- 
wilderment. A  static  world  and  a  static  order  are 
dissolving;  and  in  England  that  order  was  so  static 
as  to  make  the  present  spectacle  the  more  surprising. 
Signs  of  the  disintegration  of  the  old  social  strata  were 
not  lacking,  indeed,  in  the  earlier  years  of  the  twentieth 
century,  when  labour  members  and  north-country  rad- 
icals began  to  invade  parliament;  but  the  cataclysm 
of  this  war  has  accelerated  the  process.  In  the  muddy 
trenches  of  Flanders  and  Erance  a  new  comradeship 
has  sprung  up  between  officers  and  Tommies,  while 
time-honoured  precedent  has  been  broken  by  the  ne- 
cessity of  giving  thousands  of  commissions  to  men  of 
merit  who  do  not  belong  to  the  "  officer  caste."  At  the 
Haymarket  Theatre  I  saw  a  fashionable  audience 
wildly  applaud  a  play  in  which  the  local  tailor  be- 
comes a  major-general  and  returns  home  to  marry  the 
daughter  of  the  lord  of  a  manor  whose  clothes  he  used 
to  cut  before  the  war. 


54  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

"  The  age  of  great  adventure,"  were  the  words  used 
by  Mr.  H.  G.  Wells  to  describe  this  epoch  as  we  dis- 
cussed it.  And  a  large  proportion  of  the  descendants 
of  those  who  have  governed  England  for  centuries  are 
apparently  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  this  adventure, 
even  though  it  may  spell  the  end  of  their  exclusive 
rule.  As  significant  of  the  social  mingling  of  elements 
which  in  the  past  never  exchanged  ideas  or  points  of 
view  I  shall  describe  a  week-end  party  at  a  large  coun- 
try house  of  Liberal  complexion,  on  the  Thames.  I 
have  reason  to  believe  it  fairly  typical.  The  owner  of 
this  estate  holds  an  important  position  in  the  Foreign 
Office,  and  the  hostess  has,  by  her  wit  and  intelligent 
grasp  of  affairs,  made  an  enviable  place  for  herself. 
On  her  right,  at  luncheon  on  Sunday,  was  a  labour 
leader,  the  head  of  one  of  the  most  powerful  unions 
in  Britain,  and  next  him  sat  a  member  of  one  of  the 
oldest  of  England's  titled  families.  The  two  were  on 
terms  of  Christian  names.  The  group  included  two 
or  three  women,  a  sculptor  and  an  educator,  another 
Foreign  Office  official  who  has  made  a  reputation  since 
the  beginning  of  the  war,  and  finally  an  employer  of 
labour,  the  chairman  of  the  biggest  shipbuilding  com- 
pany in  England. 

That  a  company  presenting  such  a  variety  of  inter- 
ests should  have  been  brought  together  in  the  frescoed 
dining-room  of  that  particular  house  is  noteworthy. 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  55 

The  thing  could  happen  nowhere  save  in  the  England 
of  today.  At  first  the  talk  was  general,  ranging  over 
a  number  of  subjects  from  that  of  the  personality  of 
certain  politicians  to  the  conduct  of  the  war  and  the 
disturbing  problem  raised  by  the  "  conscientious  objec- 
tor " ;  little  by  little,  however,  the  rest  of  us  became 
silent,  to  listen  to  a  debate  which  had  begun  between 
the  labour  leader  and  the  ship-builder  on  the  "  labour 
question."  It  is  not  my  purpose  here  to  record  what 
they  said.  Needless  to  add  that  they  did  not  wholly 
agree,  but  they  were  much  nearer  to  agreement  than 
one  would  have  thought  possible.  What  was  inter- 
esting was  the  open-mindedness  with  which,  on  both 
sides,  the  argument  was  conducted,  and  the  fact  that 
it  could  seriously  take  place  then  and  there.  For  the 
subject  of  it  had  long  been  the  supreme  problem  in  the 
lives  of  both  these  men,  their  feelings  concerning  it 
must  at  times  have  been  tinged  with  bitterness,  yet 
they  spoke  with  courtesy  and  restraint,  and  though 
each  maintained  his  contentions  he  was  quick  to  ac- 
knowledge a  point  made  by  the  other.  As  one  listened 
one  was  led  to  hope  that  a  happier  day  is  perhaps  at 
hand  when  such  things  as  "  complexes  "  and  convictions 
will  disappear. 

The  types  of  these  two  were  in  striking  contrast. 
The  labour  leader  was  stocky,  chestnut-coloured,  vital, 
possessing  the  bulldog  quality  of  the  British  self-made 


56  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

man  combined  with  a  natural  wit,  sharpened  in  the 
arena,  that  often  startled  the  company  into  an  appre- 
ciative laughter.  The  ship-builder,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  one  of  those  spare  and  hard  Englishmen  whom  no 
amount  of  business  cares  will  induce  to  neglect  the  ex- 
ercise of  his  body,  the  obligation  at  all  times  to  keep 
"  fit " ;  square-rigged,  as  it  were,  with  a  lean  face  and 
a  wide  moustache  accentuating  a  square  chin.  Occa- 
sionally a  gleam  of  humour,  a  ray  of  idealism,  lighted 
his  practical  grey  eyes.  Each  of  these  two  had  man- 
aged rather  marvellously  to  triumph  over  early  train- 
ing by  self -education :  the  labour  leader,  who  had  had 
his  first  lessons  in  life  from  injustices  and  hard  knocks ; 
and  the  ship-builder,  who  had  overcome  the  handicap 
of  the  public-school  tradition  and  of  Manchester  eco- 
nomics. 

"  Yes,  titles  and  fortunes  must  go,"  remarked  our 
hostess  with  a  smile  as  she  rose  from  the  table  and 
led  the  way  out  on  the  sunny,  stone-flagged  terrace. 
Below  us  was  a  wide  parterre  whose  flower-beds,  laid 
out  by  a  celebrated  landscape-gardener  in  the  days  of 
the  Stuarts,  were  filled  with  vegetables.  The  day  was 
like  our  New  England  Indian  summer  —  though  the 
trees  were  still  heavy  with  leaves  —  and  a  gossamer- 
blue  veil  of  haze  stained  the  hills  between  which  the 
shining  river  ran.  If  the  social  revolution,  or  evolu- 


A-  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  57 

tion,  takes  place,  one  wonders  what  will  become  of  this 
long-cherished  beauty. 

I  venture  to  dwell  upon  one  more  experience  of 
that  week-end  party.  The  Friday  evening  of  my  ar- 
rival I  was  met  at  the  station,  not  by  a  limousine  with 
a  chauffeur  and  footman,  but  by  a  young  woman  with 
a  taxicab  —  one  of  the  many  reminders  that  a  war 
is  going  on.  London  had  been  reeking  in  a  green- 
yellow  fog,  but  here  the  mist  was  white,  and  through 
it  I  caught  glimpses  of  the  silhouettes  of  stately  trees 
in  a  park,  and  presently  saw  the  great  house  with  its 
clock-tower  looming  up  before  me.  A  fire  was  crack- 
ling in  the  hall,  and  before  it  my  hostess  was  conversing 
amusedly  with  a  well-known  sculptor  —  a  sculptor  typ- 
ical of  these  renaissance  times,  large,  full-blooded,  with 
vigorous  opinions  on  all  sorts  of  matters. 

"  A  lecturer  is  coming  down  from  London  to  talk  to 
the  wounded  in  the  amusement-hall  of  the  hospital," 
our  hostess  informed  us.  "  And  you  both  must  come 
and  speak  too." 

The  three  of  us  got  into  the  only  motor  of  which 
the  establishment  now  boasts,  a  little  runabout  using 
a  minimum  of  "  petrol,"  and  she  guided  us  rap- 
idly by  devious  roads  through  the  fog  until  a  blur  of 
light  proclaimed  the  presence  of  a  building,  one  of 
some  score  or  more  built  on  the  golf-course  by  the 


58  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

British  Government.  I  have  not  space  here  to  de- 
scribe that  hospital,  which  is  one  of  the  best  in  Eng- 
land; but  it  must  be  observed  that  its  excellence  and 
the  happiness  of  its  inmates  are  almost  wholly  due  to 
the  efforts  of  the  lady  who  now  conducted  us  across  the 
stage  of  the  amusement-hall,  where  all  the  convalescents 
who  could  walk  or  who  could  be  rolled  thither  in  chairs 
were  gathered.  The  lecturer  had  not  arrived.  But 
the  lady  of  the  manor  seated  herself  at  the  speaker's 
table,  singling  out  Scotch  wits  in  the  audience  —  for 
whom  she  was  more  than  a  match  —  while  the  sculptor 
and  I  looked  on  and  grinned  and  resisted  her  blandish- 
ments to  make  speeches.  When  at  last  the  lecturer 
came  he  sat  down  informally  on  the  table  with  one 
foot  hanging  in  the  air  and  grinned,  too,  at  her  ban- 
tering but  complimentary  introduction.  It  was  then 
I  discovered  for  the  first  time  that  he  was  one  of 
the  best  educational  experts  of  that  interesting  branch 
of  the  British  Government,  the  Department  of  Recon- 
struction, whose  business  it  is  to  teach  the  convalescents 
the  elements  of  social  and  political  science.  This  was 
not  to  be  a  lecture,  he  told  them,  but  a  debate  in  which 
every  man  must  take  a  part.  And  his  first  startling 
question  was  this : 

"  Why  should  Mr.  Lloyd  George,  instead  of  getting 
five  thousand  pounds  a  year  for  his  services  as  prime 
minister,  receive  any  more  than  a  common  labourer  ? " 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  59 

The  question  was  a  poser.  The  speaker  folded  his 
hands  and  beamed  down  at  them;  he  seemed  fairly  to 
radiate  benignity. 

"  Now  we  mustn't  be  afraid  of  him,  just  because 
he  seems  to  be  intelligent,"  declared  our  hostess.  This 
sally  was  greeted  with  spasmodic  laughter.  Her  eyes 
flitted  from  bench  to  bench,  yet  met  nothing  save 
averted  glances.  "  Jock !  Where  are  you,  Jock  ? 
Why  don't  you  speak  up  ?  —  you've  never  been  downed 
before." 

More  laughter,  and  craning  of  necks  for  the  Jocks. 
This  appeared  to  be  her  generic  name  for  the  wits. 
But  the  Jocks  remained  obdurately  modest.  The  pro- 
longed silence  did  not  seem  in  the  least  painful  to  the 
lecturer,  who  thrust  his  hand  in  his  pocket  and  con- 
tinued to  beam.  He  had  learned  how  to  wait.  And 
at  last  his  patience  was  rewarded.  A  middle-aged 
soldier  with  a  very  serious  manner  arose  hesitatingly, 
with  encouraging  noises  from  his  comrades. 

"It's  not  Mr.  Lloyd  George  I'm  worrying  about, 
sir,"  he  said,  "  all  I  wants  is  enough  for  the  missus  and 
me.  I  had  trouble  to  get  that  before  the  war." 

Cries  of  "Hear!     Hear!" 

"  Why  did  you  have  trouble  ?  "  inquired  the  lecturer 
mildly. 

"  The  wages  was  too  low." 

"  And  why  were  the  wages  too  low  ?  " 


60  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

"  You've  got  me  there.     I  hadn't  thought." 

"  But  isn't  it  your  business  as  a  voter  to  think  ?  " 
asked  the  lecturer.  "  That's  why  the  government  is 
sending  me  here,  to  start  you  to  thinking,  to  remind 
you  that  it  is  you  soldiers  who  will  have  to  take  charge 
of  this  country  and  run  it  after  the  war  is  over.  And 
you  won't  be  able  to  do  that  unless  you  think,  and 
think  straight." 

"  We've  never  been  taught  to  think,"  was  the  illu- 
minating reply. 

"  And  if  we  do  think  we've  never  been  educated  to 
express  ourselves,  same  as  you !  "  shouted  another  man, 
in  whom  excitement  had  overcome  timidity. 

"  I'm  here  to  help  you  educate  yourselves,"  said  the 
lecturer.  "  But  first  let's  hear  any  ideas  you  may  have 
on  the  question  I  asked  you." 

There  turned  out  to  be  plenty  of  ideas,  after  all. 
An  opinion  was  ventured  that  Mr.  Lloyd  George  served 
the  nation,  not  for  money  but  from  public  spirit ;  a  con- 
servative insisted  that  ability  should  be  rewarded  and 
rewarded  well;  whereupon  ensued  one  of  the  most  en- 
lightening discussions,  not  only  as  a  revelation  of  intel- 
ligence, but  of  complexes  and  obsessions  pervading  many 
of  the  minds  in  whose  power  lies  the  ultimate  con- 
trol of  democracies.  One,  for  instance,  declared  that 
"  if  every  man  went  to  church  proper  of  a  Sunday 
and  minded  his  own  business  the  country  would  get 


A  TKAVELLEK  IN  WAR-TIME  61 

along  well  enough."  He  was  evidently  of  the  opinion 
that  there  was  too  much  thinking  and  not  enough  of 
what  he  would  have  termed  "  religion."  Gradually 
that  audience  split  up  into  liberals  and  conservatives; 
and  the  liberals  noticeably  were  the  younger  men  who 
had  had  the  advantages  of  better  board  schools,  who 
had  formed  fewer  complexes  and  had  had  less  time  in 
which  to  get  them  set.  Of  these,  a  Canadian  made  a 
plea  for  the  American  system  of  universal  education, 
whereupon  a  combative  "  stand-patter "  declared  that 
every  man  wasn't  fit  to  be  educated,  that  the  American 
plan  made  only  for  discontent.  "  Look  at  them,"  he 
exclaimed,  "  they're  never  satisfied  to  stay  in  their 
places."  This  provoked  laughter,  but  it  was  too  much 
for  the  sculptor  —  and  for  me.  We  both  broke  our 
vows  and  made  speeches  in  favour  of  equality  and  men- 
tal opportunity,  while  the  lecturer  looked  on  and 
smiled.  Mr.  Lloyd  George  and  his  salary  were  for- 
gotten. By  some  subtle  art  of  the  chairman  the  de- 
bate had  been  guided  to  the  very  point  where  he  had 
from  the  first  intended  to  guide  it  —  to  the  burning 
question  of  our  day  —  education  as  the  true  foundation 
of  democracy!  Perhaps,  after  all,  this  may  be  our 
American  contribution  to  the  world's  advance. 

As  we  walked  homeward  through  the  fog  I  talked  to 
him  of  Professor  Dewey's  work  and  its  results,  while 
he  explained  to  me  the  methods  of  the  Reconstruction 


62  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

Department.  "  Out  of  every  audience  like  that  we  get 
a  group  and  form  a  class/'  he  said.  "  They're  always 
a  bit  backward  at  first,  just  as  they  were  tonight,  but 
they  grow  very  keen.  We  have  a  great  many  classes 
already  started,  and  we  see  to  it  that  they  are  provided 
with  text-books  and  teachers.  Oh,  no,  it's  not  propa- 
ganda," he  added,  in  answer  to  my  query ;  "  all  we  do 
is  to  try  to  give  them  facts  in  such  a  way  as  to  make 
them  able  to  draw  their  own  conclusions  and  join  any 
political  party  they  choose  —  just  so  they  join  one 
intelligently." 

I  must  add  that  before  Sunday  was  over  he  had 
organized  his  class  and  arranged  for  their  future  in- 
struction. 


CHAPTEE  III 


CHAPTEE  III 


I  WOULD  speak  first  of  a  contrast  —  and  yet  I  have 
come  to  recognize  how  impossible  it  is  to  convey  to 
the  dweller  in  America  the  difference  in  atmosphere 
between  England  and  France  on  the  one  hand  and  our 
country  on  the  other.  And  when  I  use  the  word  "  at- 
mosphere "  I  mean  the  mental  state  of  the  peoples  as 
well  as  the  weather  and  the  aspect  of  the  skies.  I  have 
referred  in  another  article  to  the  anxious,  feverish  pros- 
perity one  beholds  in  London  and  Paris,  to  that  appar- 
ent indifference,  despite  the  presence  on  the  streets  of 
crowds  of  soldiers  to  the  existence  of  a  war  of  which 
one  is  ever  aware.  Yet,  along  with  this,  one  is  ever 
conscious  of  pressure.  The  air  is  heavy;  there  is  a 
corresponding  lack  of  the  buoyancy  of  mind  which  is 
the  normal  American  condition.  Perhaps,  if  German 
troops  occupied  New  England  and  New  York,  our  own 
mental  barometer  might  be  lower.  It  is  difficult  to  say. 
At  any  rate,  after  an  ocean  voyage  of  nine  days  one's 
spirits  rise  perceptibly  as  the  ship  nears  Nantucket; 
and  the  icy-bright  sunlight  of  New  York  harbour,  the 

65 


66  A  TEAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

sight  of  the  buildings  aspiring  to  blue  skies  restore  the 
throbbing  optimism  which  with  us  is  normal;  and  it 
was  with  an  effort,  when  I  talked  to  the  reporters  on 
landing,  that  I  was  able  to  achieve  and  express  the  pes- 
simism and  darkness  out  of  which  I  had  come.  Pes- 
simism is  perhaps  too  strong  a  word,  and  takes  no  ac- 
count of  the  continued  unimpaired  morale  and  deter- 
mination of  the  greater  part  of  the  British  and  French 
peoples.  They  expect  much  from  us.  Yet  the  impres- 
sion was  instantaneous,  when  I  set  forth  in  the  streets 
of  New  York,  that  we  had  not  fully  measured  the  mag- 
nitude of  our  task  —  an  impression  that  has  been  amply 
confirmed  as  the  weeks  have  passed. 

The  sense  of  relief  I  felt  was  not  only  the  result  of 
bright  skies  and  a  high  barometer,  of  the  palpable  self- 
confidence  of  the  pedestrians,  of  the  white  bread  on  the 
table  and  the  knowledge  that  there  was  more,  but  also 
of  the  ease  of  accomplishing  things.  I  called  for  a  tele- 
phone number  and  got  it  cheerfully  and  instantly.  I 
sent  several  telegrams,  and  did  not  have  to  wait  twenty 
minutes  before  a  wicket  while  a  painstaking  official  mul- 
tiplied and  added  and  subtracted  and  paused  to  talk 
with  a  friend ;  the  speed  of  the  express  in  which  I  flew 
down-town  seemed  emblematic  of  America  itself.  I 
had  been  transported,  in  fact,  into  another  world  —  my 
world ;  and  in  order  to  realize  again  that  from  which  I 
had  come  I  turned  to  a  diary  recording  a  London  filled 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  67 

with  the  sulphur  fumes  of  fog,  through  which  the  lamps 
of  the  taxis  and  buses  shone  as  yellow  blots  reflected  on 
glistening  streets ;  or,  for  some  reason  a  still  greater  con- 
trast, a  blue,  blue  November  Sunday  afternoon  in  Paris, 
the  Esplanade  of  the  Invalides  black  with  people  — 
sad  people  —  and  the  Invalides  itself  all  etched  in  blue, 
as  seen  through  the  wide  vista  from  the  Seine. 

A  few  days  later,  with  some  children,  I  went  to  the 
Hippodrome.  And  it  remained  for  the  Hippodrome, 
of  all  places,  to  give  me  the  thrill  I  had  not  achieved 
abroad,  the  thrill  I  had  not  experienced  since  the  first 
months  of  the  war.  Mr.  George.  Cohan  accomplished 
it.  The  transport  with  steam  up,  is  ready  to  leave 
the  wharf,  the  khaki-clad  regiment  of  erect  and  vigorous 
young  Americans  marches  across  the  great  stage,  and  the 
audience  strains  forward  and  begins  to  sing,  under  its 
breath,  the  words  that  proclaim,  as  nothing  else  perhaps 
proclaims,  how  America  feels. 

"  Send  the  word,  send  the  word  over  there  .  .  . 
We'll  be  o-ver,  we're  coming  o-ver, 
And  we  won't  come  back  till  it's  o-ver,  over  there!  " 

Is  it  the  prelude  of  a  tragedy  ?  We  have  always  been 
so  successful,  we  Americans.  Are  we  to  fail  now  ?  I 
am  an  American,  and  I  do  not  believe  we  are  to  fail. 
But  I  am  soberer,  somehow  a  different  American  than 
he  who  sailed  away  in  August.  Shall  we  learn  other 


68  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

things  than  those  that  have  hitherto  been  contained  in 
our  philosophy  ? 

Of  one  thing  I  am  convinced.  It  is  the  first  war  of 
the  world  that  is  not  a  miltary  war,  although  miltary 
genius  is  demanded,  although  it  is  the  bloodiest  war  in 
history.  But  other  qualities  are  required;  men  and 
women  who  are  not  professional  soldiers  are  fighting  in 
it  and  will  aid  in  victory.  The  pomp  and  circumstance 
of  other  wars  are  lacking  in  this,  the  greatest  of  all. 
We  had  the  thrills,  even  in  America,  three  years  ago, 
when  Britain  and  France  and  Canada  went  in.  We 
tingled  when  we  read  of  the  mobilizing  of  the  huge 
armies,  of  the  leave-takings  of  the  soldiers.  We  bought 
every  extra  for  news  of  those  first  battles  on  Belgian 
soil.  And  I  remember  my  sensations  when  in  the  prov- 
ince of  Quebec  in  the  autumn  of  1914,  looking  out  of 
the  car-window  at  the  troops  gathering  on  the  platforms 
who  were  to  go  across  the  seas  to  fight  for  the  empire 
and  liberty.  They  were  singing  "  Tipperary !  "  "  Tip- 
perary !  "  One  seldoms  hears  it  now,  and  the  way  has 
proved  long  —  longer  than  we  reckoned.  And  we  are 
singing  "  Over  There !  " 

In  those  first  months  of  the  war  there  was,  we  were 
told,  in  England  and  France  a  revival  of  "religion," 
and  indeed  many  of  the  books  then  written  gave  evi- 
dence of  having  been  composed  in  exalted,  mystic  moods. 
I  remember  one  in  particular,  called  "  En  Campagne," 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  69 

by  a  young  French  officer.  And  then,  somehow,  the 
note  of  mystic  exaltation  died  away,  to  be  succeeded  by  a 
period  of  realism.  Read  "  Le  Feu,"  which  is  most  typi- 
cal, which  has  sold  in  numberless  editions.  Here  is  a 
picture  of  that  other  aspect  —  the  grimness,  the  mo- 
notony, and  the  frequent  bestiality  of  trench  life,  the 
horror  of  slaughtering  millions  of  men  by  highly  spe- 
cialized machinery.  And  yet,  as  an  American,  I  strike 
inevitably  the  note  of  optimism  once  more.  Even  now 
the  truer  spiritual  goal  is  glimpsed  through  the  battle 
clouds,  and  has  been  hailed  in  world-reverberating 
phrases  by  our  American  President.  Day  by  day  the 
real  issue  is  clearer,  while  the  "  religion  "  it  implies 
embraces  not  one  nation,  wills  not  one  patriotism,  but 
humanity  itself.  I  heard  a  Frenchwoman  who  had 
been  deeply  "  religious  "  in  the  old  sense  exclaim :  "  I 
no  longer  have  any  faith  in  God ;  he  is  on  the  side  of  the 
Germans."  When  the  war  began  there  were  many  evi- 
dences of  a  survival  of  that  faith  that  God  fights  for 
nations,  interferes  in  behalf  of  the  "  righteous  "  cause. 
When  General  Joffre  was  in  America  he  was  asked  by 
one  of  our  countrywomen  how  the  battle  of  the  Marne 
was  won.  "  Madame,"  he  is  reported  to  have  said,  "  it 
was  won  by  me,  by  my  generals  and  soldiers."  The 
tendency  to  regard  this  victory,  which  we  hope  saved 
France  and  the  Western  humanitarian  civilization  we 
cherish,  as  a  special  interposition  of  Providence,  as  a 


70  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

miracle,  has  given  place  to  the  realization  that  the  battle 
was  won  by  the  resourcefulness,  science,  and  coolness  of 
the  French  commander-in-chief.  Science  preserves  ar- 
mies, since  killing,  if  it  has  to  be  done,  is  now  wholly 
within  that  realm;  science  heals  the  wounded,  transports 
them  rapidly  to  the  hospitals,  gives  the  shattered  some- 
thing still  to  live  for ;  and,  if  we  are  able  to  abandon  the 
sentimental  view  and  look  facts  in  the  face  —  as  many 
anointed  chaplains  in  Europe  are  doing  —  science  not 
only  eliminates  typhoid  but  is  able  to  prevent  those  ter- 
rible diseases  that  devastate  armies  and  nations.  And 
science  is  no  longer  confined  to  the  physical  but  has  in- 
vaded the  social  kingdom,  is  able  to  weave  a  juster  fabric 
into  the  government  of  peoples.  On  all  sides  we  are 
beginning  to  embrace  the  religion  of  self-reliance,  a 
faith  that  God  is  on  the  side  of  intelligence  —  intel- 
ligence with  a  broader  meaning  than  the  Germans  have 
given  it,  for  it  includes  charity. 

II 

It  seems  to  me  that  I  remember,  somewhere  in  the 
realistic  novel  I  have  mentioned  — "  Le  Feu  " —  read- 
ing of  singing  soldiers,  and  an  assumption  on  the  part 
of  their  hearers  that  such  songs  are  prompted  only  by  a 
devil-may-care  lightness  of  heart  which  the  soldier 
achieves.  A  shallow  psychology  (as  the  author  points 
out),  especially  in  these  days  of  trench  warfare!  The 


A  TEAVELLEE  IN  WAE-TIME  71 

soldier  sings  to  hide  his  real  feelings,  perhaps  to  give 
vent  to  them.  I  am  reminded  of  all  this  in  connection 
with  my  trip  to  the  British  front.  I  left  London  after 
lunch  on  one  of  those  dreary,  grey  days  to  which  I  have 
referred;  the  rain  had  begun  to  splash  angrily  against 
the  panes  of  the  car  windows  before  we  reached  the 
coast.  At  five  o'clock  the  boat  pushed  off  into  a  black 
channel,  whipped  by  a  gale  that  drove  the  rain  across 
the  decks  and  into  every  passage  and  gangway.  The 
steamer  was  literally  loaded  with  human  beings,  officers 
and  men  returning  from  a  brief  glimpse  of  home. 
There  was  nothing  of  the  glory  of  war  in  the  embark- 
ation, and,  to  add  to  the  sad  and  sinister  effect  of  it,  each 
man  as  he  came  aboard  mounted  the  ladder  and  chose, 
from  a  pile  on  the  hatch  combing,  a  sodden  life-pre- 
server, which  he  flung  around  his  shoulders  as  he  went 
in  search  of  a  shelter.  The  saloon  below,  where  we  had 
our  tea,  was  lighted  indeed,  but  sealed  so  tight  as  to  be 
insupportable;  and  the  cabin  above,  stifling  too,  was 
dark  as  a  pocket.  One  stumbled  over  unseen  passengers 
on  the  lounges,  or  sitting  on  kits  on  the  floor.  Even  the 
steps  up  which  I  groped  my  way  to  the  deck  above  were 
filled,  while  on  the  deck  there  was  standing-room  only 
and  not  much  of  that.  Mai  de  mer  added  to  the  dis- 
comforts of  many.  At  length  I  found  an  uncertain 
refuge  in  a  gangway  amidships,  hedged  in  between  un- 
seen companions ;  but  even  here  the  rain  stung  our  faces 


72  A  TRAVELLEK  IN  WAH-TIME 

and  the  spray  of  an  occasional  comber  drenched  our 
feet,  while  through  the  gloom  of  the  night  only  a  few 
yards  of  white  water  were  to  be  discerned.  For  three 
hours  I  stood  there,  trying  to  imagine  what  was  in  the 
minds  of  these  men  with  whose  bodies  I  was  in  such  inti- 
mate contact.  They  were  going  to  a  foreign  land  to 
fight,  many  of  them  to  die,  not  in  one  of  those  adven- 
turous campaigns  of  times  gone  by,  but  in  the  wet 
trenches  or  the  hideous  No  Man's  Land  between.  What 
were  the  images  they  summoned  up  in  the  darkness  ? 
Visions  of  long-familiar  homes  and  long-familiar 
friends  ?  And  just  how  were  they  facing  the  future  ? 
Even  as  I  wondered,  voices  rose  in  a  song,  English 
voices,  soldier  voices.  It  was  not  "  Tipperary,"  the 
song  that  thrilled  us  a  few  years  ago.  I  strove  to  catch 
the  words : 

"  I  want  to  go  home ! 

I  don't  want  to  go  back  to  the  trenches  no  more, 
Where  there  are  bullets  and  shrapnel  galore, 
I  want  to  go  home !  " 

It  was  sung  boisterously,  in  a  defiant  tone  of  mockery 
of  the  desire  it  expressed,  and  thus  tremendously  gained 
in  pathos.  They  did  want  to  go  home  —  naturally.  It 
was  sung  with  the  same  spirit  our  men  sing  "  We  won't 
come  back  till  it's  over,  over  there !  "  The  difference  is 
that  these  Britishers  have  been  over  there,  have  seen  the 
horrors  face  to  face,  have  tasted  the  sweets  of  home,  and 


A  TKAVELLER  IN  WAK-TIME  73 

in  spite  of  heartsickness  and  seasickness  are  resolved  to 
see  it  through.  Such  is  the  morale  of  the  British  army. 
I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  it  will  be  the  morale 
of  our  own  army  also,  but  at  present  the  British  are 
holding  the  fort.  Tommy  would  never  give  up  the  war, 
but  he  has  had  a  realistic  taste  of  it,  and  his  songs  reflect 
his  experience.  Other  songs  reached  my  ears  each 
night,  above  the  hissing  and  pounding  of  the  Channel 
seas,  but  the  unseen  group  returned  always  to  this.  One 
thought  of  Agincourt  and  Crecy,  of  Waterloo,  of  the 
countless  journeys  across  this  same  stormy  strip  of 
water  the  ancestors  of  these  man  had  made  in  the  past, 
and  one  wondered  whether  war  were  eternal  and  in- 
evitable, after  all. 

And  what  does  Tommy  think  about  it  —  this  war? 
My  own  limited  experience  thoroughly  indorses  Mr. 
Galsworthy's  splendid  analysis  of  British-soldier  psy- 
chology that  appeared  in  the  December  North  Ameri- 
can. The  average  man,  with  native  doggedness,  is  fight- 
ing for  the  defence  of  England.  The  British  Govern- 
ment itself,  in  its  reconstruction  department  for  the 
political  education  of  the  wounded,  has  given  partial 
denial  to  the  old  maxim  that  it  is  the  soldier's  business 
not  to  think  but  to  obey;  and  the  British  army  is  leav- 
ened with  men  who  read  and  reflect  in  the  long  nights  of 
watching  in  the  rain,  who  are  gaining  ideas  about  con- 
ditions in  the  past  and  resolutions  concerning  those  of 


74  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

the  future.  The  very  army  itself  has  had  a  miracle 
happen  to  it :  it  has  been  democratized  —  and  with  the 
cheerful  consent  of  the  class  to  which  formerly  the  pos- 
session of  commissions  was  largely  confined.  Grad- 
ually, to  these  soldier-thinkers,  as  well  as  to  the  mass  of 
others  at  home,  is  unfolding  the  vision  of  a  new  social 
order  which  is  indeed  worth  fighting  for  and  dying  for. 

Ill 

At  last,  our  knees  cramped  and  our  feet  soaked,  we 
saw  the  lights  of  the  French  port  dancing  across  the 
veil  of  rain,  like  thistledowns  of  fire,  and  presently  we 
were  at  rest  at  a  stone  quay.  As  I  stood  waiting  on  the 
deck  to  have  my  passport  vised,  I  tried  to  reconstruct 
the  features  of  this  little  seaport  as  I  had  seen  it,  many 
years  before,  on  a  bright  summer's  day  when  I  had 
motored  from  Paris  on  my  way  to  London.  The  gay 
line  of  hotels  facing  the  water  was  hidden  in  the  dark- 
ness. Suddenly  I  heard  my  name  called,  and  I  was 
rescued  from  the  group  of  civilians  by  a  British  officer 
who  introduced  himself  as  my  host.  It  was  after  nine 
o'clock,  and  he  had  been  on  the  lookout  for  me  since 
half -past  seven.  The  effect  of  his  welcome  at  that  time 
and  place  was  electrical,  and  I  was  further  immensely 
cheered  by  the  news  he  gave  me,  as  we  hurried  along 
the  street,  that  two  friends  of  mine  were  here  and  quite 
hungry,  having  delayed  dinner  for  my  arrival.  One  of 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  75 

them  was  a  young  member  of  Congress  who  had  been 
making  exhaustive  studies  of  the  situation  in  Italy, 
France  and  England,  and  the  other  one  of  our  best- 
known  writers,  both  bound  for  London.  We  sat  around 
the  table  until  nearly  eleven,  exchanging  impressions 
and  experiences.  Then  my  officer  declared  that  it  was 
time  to  go  home. 

"  Home  "  proved  to  be  the  big  chateau  which  the  Brit- 
ish Government  has  leased  for  the  kindly  purpose  of 
entertaining  such  American  guests  as  they  choose  to 
invite.  It  is  known  as  the  "  American  Chateau,"  and 
in  the  early  morning  hours  we  reached  it  after  a  long 
drive  through  the  gale.  We  crossed  a  bridge  over  a 
moat  and  traversed  a  huge  stone  hall  to  the  Gothic  draw- 
ing-room. Here  a  fire  was  crackling  on  the  hearth, 
refreshments  were  laid  out,  and  the  major  in  command 
rose  from  his  book  to  greet  me.  Hospitality,  with  these 
people,  has  attained  to  art,  and,  though  I  had  come  here 
at  the  invitation  of  his  government,  I  had  the  feeling  of 
being  his  personal  guest  in  his  own  house.  Presently  he 
led  the  way  up  the  stone  stairs  and  showed  me  the  room 
I  was  to  occupy. 

I  awoke  to  the  sound  of  the  wind  whistling  through 
the  open  lattice,  and  looking  down  on  the  ruffled  blue 
waters  of  the  moat  I  saw  a  great  white  swan  at  his  morn- 
ing toilet,  his  feathers  dazzling  in  the  sun.  It  was  one 
of  those  rare  crisp  and  sparkling  days  that  remind  one 


76  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

of  our  American  autumn.  A  green  stretch  of  lawn 
made  a  vista  through  the  woods.  Following  the  ex- 
ample of  the  swan,  I  plunged  into  the  tin  tub  the  orderly 
had  placed  beside  my  bed  and  went  down  to  porridge  in 
a  glow.  Porridge,  for  the  major  was  Scotch,  and  had 
taught  his  French  cook  to  make  it  as  the  Scotch  make 
it.  Then,  going  out  into  the  hall,  from  a  table  on 
which  lay  a  contour  map  of  the  battle  region,  the  major 
picked  up  a  hideous  mask  that  seemed  to  have  been 
made  for  some  barbaric  revelries. 

"  We  may  not  strike  any  gas,"  he  said,  "  but  it's  as 
well  to  be  on  the  safe  side,"  whereupon  he  made  me 
practise  inserting  the  tube  in  my  mouth,  pinching  the 
nostrils  instantly  with  the  wire-covered  nippers.  He 
also  presented  me  with  a  steel  helmet.  Thus  equipped 
for  any  untoward  occurrence,  putting  on  sweaters  and 
heavy  overcoats,  and  wrapping  ourselves  in  the  fur  rugs 
of  the  waiting  automobile,  we  started  off,  with  the  gale 
on  our  quarter,  for  the  front. 

Picardy,  on  whose  soil  has  been  shed  so  much  English 
blood,  never  was  more  beautiful  than  on  that  October 
day.  The  trees  were  still  in  full  leaf,  the  fields  green, 
though  the  crops  had  been  gathered,  and  the  crystal  air 
gave  vivid  value  to  every  colour  in  the  landscape. 
From  time  to  time  we  wound  through  the  cobble-stoned 
streets  of  historic  villages,  each  having  its  stone  church 
and  the  bodkin-shaped  steeple  of  blue  slate  so  character- 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  77 

istic  of  that  country.  And,  as  though  we  were  still  in 
the  pastoral  times  of  peace,  in  the  square  of  one  of 
these  villages  a  horse-fair  was  in  progress,  blue-smocked 
peasants  were  trotting  chunky  ponies  over  the  stones. 
It  was  like  a  picture  from  one  of  De  Maupassant's  tales. 
In  other  villages  the  shawled  women  sat  knitting  behind 
piles  of  beets  and  cabbages  and  apples,  their  farm-carts 
atilt  in  the  sun.  Again  and  again  I  tried  to  grasp  the 
fact  that  the  greatest  of  world  wars  was  being  fought 
only  a  few  miles  away  —  and  failed. 

We  had  met,  indeed,  an  occasional  officer  or  orderly, 
huddled  in  a  greatcoat  and  head  against  the  wind,  exer- 
cising those  wonderful  animals  that  are  the  pride  of 
the  British  cavalry  and  which  General  Sir  Douglas 
Haig,  himself  a  cavalryman,  some  day  hopes  to  bring 
into  service.  We  had  overtaken  an  artillery  train 
rumbling  along  toward  the  east,  the  men  laughing  and 
joking  as  they  rode,  as  though  they  were  going  to 
manoeuvres.  Farther  on,  as  the  soldiers  along  the  high- 
roads and  in  the  towns  grew  more  and  more  numerous, 
they  seemed  so  harmoniously  part  of  the  peaceful  scene 
that  war  was  as  difficult  to  visualize  as  ever.  Many 
sat  about  smoking  their  pipes  and  playing  with  the  vil- 
lage children,  others  were  in  squads  going  to  drill 
or  exercise  —  something  the  Briton  never  neglects. 
The  amazing  thing  to  a  visitor  who  has  seen  the  trenches 
awash  on  a  typical  wet  day,  who  knows  that  even  billet- 


78  A  TKAVELLER  IN  WAE-TIME 

ing  in  cold  farms  and  barns  behind  the  lines  can  scarcely 
be  compared  to  the  comforts  of  home,  is  how  these  men 
keep  well  under  the  conditions.  To  say  that  they  are 
well  is  to  understate  the  fact :  the  ruddy  faces  and 
clear  eyes  and  hard  muscles  —  even  of  those  who  once 
were  pale  London  clerks  —  proclaim  a  triumph  for  the 
system  of  hygiene  of  their  army. 

Suddenly  we  came  upon  a  house  with  a  great  round 
hole  in  its  wall,  and  then  upon  several  in  ruins  beside 
the  village  street.  Meanwhile,  at  work  under  the  wind- 
swept trees  of  the  highway,  were  strange,  dark  men  from 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth,  physiognomies  as  old 
as  the  tombs  of  Pharaoh.  It  was,  indeed,  not  so  much 
the  graven  red  profiles  of  priests  and  soldiers  that  came 
to  me  at  sight  of  these  Egyptians,  but  the  singing  fella- 
heen of  the  water-buckets  of  the  Nile.  And  here,  too, 
shovelling  the  crushed  rock,  were  East  Indians  oddly 
clad  in  European  garb,  careless  of  the  cold.  That  sense 
of  the  vastness  of  the  British  Empire,  which  at  times  is 
so  profound,  was  mingled  now  with  a  knowledge  that 
it  was  fighting  for  its  life,  marshalling  all  its  resources 
for  Armageddon. 

Saint  Eloi  is  named  after  the  good  bishop  who  ven- 
tured to  advise  King  Dagobert  about  his  costume.  And 
the  church  stands  —  what  is  left  of  it  —  all  alone  on 
the  greenest  of  terraces  jutting  out  toward  the  east; 
and  the  tower,  ruggedly  picturesque  against  the  sky, 


A  TRAVELLEE  IN  WAR-TIME  79 

resembles  that  of  some  crumbled  abbey.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  it  has  been  a  target  for  German  gunners.  Dodg- 
ing an  army-truck  and  rounding  one  of  those  military- 
traffic  policemen  one  meets  at  every  important  carrefour 
we  climbed  the  hill  and  left  the  motor  among  the  great 
trees,  which  are  still  fortunately  preserved.  And  we 
stood  for  a  few  minutes,  gazing  over  miles  and  miles  of 
devastation.  Then,  taking  the  motor  once  more,  we 
passed  through  wrecked  and  empty  villages  until  we 
came  to  the  foot  of  Vimy  Ridge.  jSTotre  Dame  de  Lor- 
ette  rose  against  the  sky-line  to  the  north. 

Vimy  and  Notre  Dame  de  Lorette  —  sweet  but  ter- 
rible names !  Only  a  summer  had  passed  since  Yimy 
was  the  scene  of  one  of  the  bloodiest  battles  of  the  war. 
From  a  distance  the  prevailing  colour  of  the  steep  slope 
is  ochre ;  it  gives  the  effect  of  having  been  scraped  bare 
in  preparation  for  some  gigantic  enterprise.  A  nearer 
view  reveals  a  flush  of  green ;  nature  is  already  striving 
to  heal.  From  top  to  bottom  it  is  pockmarked  by  shells 
and  scarred  by  trenches  —  trenches  every  few  feet,  and 
between  them  tangled  masses  of  barbed  wire  still  cling- 
ing to  the  "  knife  rests  "  and  corkscrew  stanchions  to 
which  it  had  been  strung.  The  huge  shell-holes,  reveal- 
ing the  chalk  subsoil,  were  half -filled  with  water.  And 
even  though  the  field  had  been  cleaned  by  those  East 
Indians  I  had  seen  on  the  road,  and  the  thousands  who 
had  died  here  buried,  bits  of  uniform,  shoes,  and  ac- 


80  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

coutrements  and  shattered  rifles  were  sticking  in  the 
clay  —  and  once  we  came  across  a  portion  of  a  bedstead, 
doubtless  taken  by  some  officer  from  a  ruined  and  now 
vanished  village  to  his  dugout.  Painfully,  pausing 
frequently  to  ponder  over  these  remnants,  so  eloquent  of 
the  fury  of  the  struggle,  slipping  backward  at  every  step 
and  despite  our  care  getting  tangled  in  the  wire,  we 
made  our  way  up  the  slope.  Buttercups  and  daisies 
were  blooming  around  the  edges  of  the  craters. 

As  we  drew  near  the  crest  the  major  warned  me  not 
to  expose  myself.  "It  isn't  .because  there  is  much 
chance  of  our  being  shot,"  he  explained,  "  but  a  matter 
of  drawing  the  German  fire  upon  others."  And  yet  I 
found  it  hard  to  believe  —  despite  the  evidence  at  my 
feet  —  that  war  existed  here.  The  brightness  of  the 
day,  the  emptiness  of  the  place,  the  silence  —  save  for 
the  humming  of  the  gale  —  denied  it.  And  then,  when 
we  had  cautiously  rounded  a  hummock  at  the  top,  my 
steel  helmet  was  blown  off  —  not  by  a  shrapnel,  but  by 
the  wind !  I  had  neglected  to  tighten  the  chin-strap. 

Immediately  below  us  I  could  make  out  scars  like 
earthquake  cracks  running  across  the  meadows  —  the 
front  trenches.  Both  armies  were  buried  like  moles  in 
these  furrows.  The  country  was  spread  out  before  us, 
like  a  map,  with  occasionally  the  black  contour  of  a  coal 
mound  rising  against  the  green,  or  a  deserted  shaft-head. 
I  was  gazing  at  the  famous  battle-field  of  Lens.  Vil- 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  81 

lages,  woods,  whose  names  came  back  to  me  as  the  major 
repeated  them,  lay  like  cloud  shadows  on  the  sunny 
plain,  and  the  faintest  shadow  of  all,  far  to  the  eastward, 
was  Lens  itself.  I  marked  it  by  a  single  white  tower. 
And  suddenly  another  white  tower,  loftier  than  the  first, 
had  risen  up !  But  even  as  I  stared  its  substance 
seemed  to  change,  to  dissolve,  and  the  tower  was  no 
longer  to  be  seen.  Not  until  then  did  I  realize  that  a 
monster  shell  had  burst  beside  the  trenches  in  front  of 
the  city.  Occasionally  after  that  there  came  to  my  ears 
the  muffled  report  of  some  hidden  gun,  and  a  ball  like 
a  powder-puff  lay  lightly  on  the  plain,  and  vanished. 
But  even  the  presence  of  these,  oddly  enough,  did  not 
rob  the  landscape  of  its  air  of  Sunday  peace. 

We  ate  our  sandwiches  and  drank  our  bottle  of  white 
wine  in  a  sheltered  cut  of  the  road  that  runs  up  that 
other  ridge  which  the  French  gained  at  such  an  ap- 
palling price,  Notre  Dame  de  Lorette,  while  the  major 
described  to  me  some  features  of  the  Lens  battle,  in 
which  he  had  taken  part.  I  discovered  incidentally  that 
he  had  been  severely  wounded  at  the  Somme.  Though 
he  had  been  a  soldier  all  his  life,  and  a  good  soldier,  his 
true  passion  was  painting,  and  he  drew  my  attention 
to  the  rare  greens  and  silver-greys  of  the  stones  above  us, 
steeped  in  sunlight  —  all  that  remained  of  the  little 
church  of  Notre  Dame  —  more  beautiful,  more  signifi- 
cant, perhaps,  as  a  ruin.  It  reminded  the  major  of  the 


82  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

Turners  he  bad  admired  in  his  youth.  After  lunch  we 
lingered  in  the  cemetery,  where  the  graves  and  vaults 
had  been  harrowed  by  shells;  the  trenches  ran  right 
through  them.  And  here,  in  this  desecrated  resting- 
place  of  the  village  dead,  where  the  shattered  gravestones 
were  mingled  with  barbed  wire,  death-dealing  fragments 
of  iron,  and  rusting  stick-bombs  that  had  failed  to  ex- 
plode, was  a  wooden  cross,  on  which  was  rudely  written 
the  name  of  Hans  Siebert.  Mouldering  at  the  foot  of 
the  cross  was  a  grey  woollen  German  tunic  from  which 
the  buttons  had  been  cut. 

We  kept  the  road  to  the  top,  for  Notre  Dame  de  Lor- 
ette  is  as  steep  as  Vimy.  There  we  looked  upon  the 
panorama  of  the  Lens  battle-field  once  more,  and  started 
down  the  eastern  slope,  an  apparently  smooth  expanse 
covered  now  with  prairie  grasses,  in  reality  a  labyrinth 
of  deep  ditches,  dugouts,  and  pits;  gruesome  remnants 
of  the  battle  lay  half-concealed  under  the  grass.  We 
walked  slowly,  making  desperate  leaps  over  the  trenches, 
sometimes  perforce  going  through  them,  treading  gin- 
gerly on  the  "  duck  board  "  at  the  bottom.  We  stumbled 
over  stick-bombs  and  unexploded  shells.  No  plough  can 
be  put  here  —  the  only  solution  for  the  land  for  years 
to  come  is  forest.  Just  before  we  gained  the  road  at 
the  bottom,  where  the  car  was  awaiting  us,  we  were 
startled  by  the  sudden  flight  of  a  covey  of  partridges. 

The  skies  were  grey  when  we  reached  the  banal  out- 


A  TEAYELLER  IN"  WAR-TIME  83 

skirts  of  a  town  where  the  bourgeoise  houses  were  mod- 
ern, commonplace,  save  those  which  had  been  ennobled 
by  ruin.  It  was  Arras,  one  of  those  few  magic  names, 
eloquent  with  suggestions  of  mediaeval  romance  and  art, 
intrigue  and  chivalry;  while  upon  their  significance, 
since  the  war  began,  has  been  superimposed  still  another, 
no  less  eloquent  but  charged  with  pathos.  We  halted 
for  a  moment  in  the  open  space  before  the  railroad  sta- 
tion, a  comparatively  new  structure  of  steel  and  glass, 
designed  on  geometrical  curves,  with  an  uninspiring, 
cheaply  ornamented  front.  It  had  been,  undoubtedly, 
the  pride  of  the  little  city.  Yet  finding  it  here  had  at 
first  something  of  the  effect  of  the  discovery  of  an  office- 
building —  let  us  say  —  on  the  site  of  the  Reims 
Cathedral.  Presently,  however,  its  emptiness,  its 
silence  began  to  have  their  effects  —  these  and  the  rents 
one  began  to  perceive  in  the  roof.  For  it  was  still  the 
object  of  the  intermittent  yet  persistent  fire  of  the  Ger- 
man artillery.  One  began  to  realize  that  by  these 
wounds  it  had  achieved  a  dignity  that  transcended  the 
mediocre  imagination  of  its  provincial  designer.  A  fine 
rain  had  set  in  before  we  found  the  square,  and  here  in- 
deed one  felt  a  certain  desolate  satisfaction ;  despite  the 
wreckage  there  the  spirit  of  the  ancient  town  still  poign- 
antly haunted  it.  Although  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  which 
had  expressed  adequately  the  longings  and  aspirations, 
the  civic  pride  of  those  bygone  burghers,  was  razed  to 


84  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

the  ground,  on  three  sides  were  still  standing  the  varied 
yet  harmonious  facades  of  Flemish  houses  made  fa- 
miliar by  photographs.  Of  some  of  these  the  plaster 
between  the  carved  beams  had  been  shot  away,  the  roofs 
blown  off,  and  the  tiny  hewn  rafters  were  bared  to  the 
sky.  The  place  was  empty  in  the  gathering  gloom  of 
the  twilight.  The  gaiety  and  warmth  of  the  hut  erected 
in  the  Public  Gardens  which  houses  the  British  Officers' 
Club  were  a  relief. 

The  experiences  of  the  next  day  will  remain  for  ever 
in  my  memory  etched,  as  it  were,  in  sepia.  My  guide 
was  a  younger  officer  who  had  seen  heroic  service,  and  I 
wondered  constantly  how  his  delicate  frame  had  survived 
in  the  trenches  the  constant  hardship  of  such  weather 
as  now,  warmly  wrapped  and  with  the  car-curtains 
drawn,  we  faced.  The  inevitable,  relentless  rain  of 
that  region  had  set  in  again,  the  rain  in  which  our  own 
soldiers  will  have  to  fight,  and  the  skies  were  of  a  dark- 
ness seldom  known  in  America.  The  countryside  was 
no  longer  smiling.  After  some  two  hours  of  progress  we 
came,  in  that  devastated  district  near  the  front,  to  an  ex- 
panse where  many  monsters  were  clumsily  cavorting  like 
dinosaurs  in  primeval  slime.  At  some  distance  from 
the  road  others  stood  apparently  tethered  in  line,  await- 
ing their  turn  for  exercise.  These  were  the  far-famed 
tanks.  Their  commander,  or  chief  mahout  —  as  I  was 
inclined  to  call  him  —  was  a  cheerful  young  giant  of 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  85 

colonial  origin,  who  has  often  driven  them  serenely 
across  No  Man's  Land  and  into  the  German  trenches. 
He  had  been  expecting  us,  and  led  me  along  a  duck 
board  over  the  morass,  to  where  one  of  these  leviathans 
was  awaiting  us.  You  crawl  through  a  greasy  hole  in 
the  bottom,  and  the  inside  is  as  full  of  machinery  as 
the  turret  of  the  Pennsylvania,  and  you  grope  your  way 
to  the  seat  in  front  beside  that  of  the  captain  and  con- 
ductor, looking  out  through  a  slot  in  the  armour  over  a 
waste  of  water  and  mud.  From  here  you  are  sup- 
posed to  operate  a  machine  gun.  Behind  you  two  me- 
chanics have  started  the  engines  with  a  deafening  roar, 
above  which  are  heard  the  hoarse  commands  of  the 
captain  as  he  grinds  in  his  gears.  Then  you  realize  that 
the  thing  is  actually  moving,  that  the  bosses  on  the  belt 
have  managed  to  find  a  grip  on  the  slime  —  and  pres- 
ently you  come  to  the  brink  of  what  appears,  to  your  ex- 
aggerated sense  of  perception,  a  bottomless  chasm,  with 
distant  steep  banks  on  the  farther  side  that  look  unat- 
tainable and  insurmountable.  It  is  an  old  German 
trench  which  the  rains  have  worn  and  widened.  You 
brace  yourself,  you  grip  desperately  a  pair  of  brass 
handles  in  front  of  you,  while  leviathan  hesitates,  seems 
to  sit  up  on  his  haunches,  and  then  gently  buries  his  nose 
in  the  pasty  clay  and  paws  his  way  upward  into  the 
field  beyond.  It  was  like  sitting  in  a  huge  rocking- 
chair.  That  we  might  have  had  a  bump,  and  a  bone- 


86  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

breaking  one,  I  was  informed  after  I  had  left  the  scene 
of  the  adventure.  It  all  depends  upon  the  skill  of  the' 
driver.  The  monsters  are  not  as  tractable  as  they  seem. 
That  field  in  which  the  tanks  manoeuvre  is  character- 
istic of  the  whole  of  this  district  of  levelled  villages  and 
vanished  woods.  Imagine  a  continuous  clay  vacant  lot 
in  one  of  our  Middle  Western  cities  on  the  rainiest  day 
you  can  recall ;  and  further  imagine,  on  this  limitless  lot, 
a  network  of  narrow-gauge  tracks  and  wagon  roads,  a 
scattering  of  contractors'  shanties,  and  you  will  have 
some  idea  of  the  daily  life  and  surroundings  of  one  of 
our  American  engineer  regiments,  which  is  running  a 
railroad  behind  the  British  front.  Yet  one  has  only  to 
see  these  men  and  talk  with  them  to  be  convinced  of  the 
truth  that  human  happiness  and  even  human  health  — 
thanks  to  modern  science  —  are  not  dependent  upon  an 
existence  in  a  Garden  of  Eden.  I  do  not  mean  exactly 
that  these  men  would  choose  to  spend  the  rest  of  their 
existences  in  this  waste,  but  they  are  happy  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  a  job  well  done.  It  was  really  inspiring  to 
encounter  here  the  familiar  conductors  and  brakemen, 
engineers  and  firemen,  who  had  voluntarily,  and  for  an 
ideal,  left  their  homes  in  a  remote  and  peaceful  republic 
three  thousand  miles  away,  to  find  contentment  and  a 
new  vitality,  a  wider  vision,  in  the  difficult  and  danger- 
ous task  they  were  performing.  They  were  frequently 
under  fire  —  when  they  brought  back  the  wounded  or 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  87 

fetched  car-loads  of  munitions  to  the  great  guns  on  the 
ridiculous  little  trains  of  flat  cars  with  open-work  wheels, 
which  they  named  —  with  American  humour  —  the 
Federal  Express  and  the  Twentieth  Century  Limited. 
And  their  officers  were  equally  happy.  Their  colonel, 
of  our  regular  Army  Engineer  Corps,  was  one  of  those 
broad-shouldered  six-footers  who,  when  they  walk  the 
streets  of  Paris,  compel  pedestrians  to  turn  admiringly 
and  give  one  a  new  pride  in  the  manhood  of  our  nation. 
Hospitably  he  drew  us  out  of  the  wind  and  rain  into 
his  little  hut,  and  sat  us  down  beside  the  stove,  cheer- 
fully informing  us  that,  only  the  night  before,  the  gale 
had  blown  his  door  in,  and  his  roof  had  started  for  the 
German  lines.  In  a  neighbouring  hut,  reached  by  a 
duck  board,  we  had  lunch  with  him  and  his  officers  — 
baked  beans  and  pickles,  cakes  and  maple  syrup.  The 
American  food,  the  American  jokes  and  voices  in  that 
environment  seemed  strange  indeed !  But  as  we  smoked 
and  chatted  about  the  friends  we  had  in  common,  about 
political  events  at  home  and  the  changes  that  were  tak- 
ing place  there,  it  seemed  as  if  we  were  in  America 
once  more.  The  English  officer  listened  and  smiled  in 
sympathy,  and  he  remarked,  after  our  reluctant  depar- 
ture, that  America  was  an  extraordinary  land. 

He  directed  our  chauffeur  to  Bapaume,  across  that 
wilderness  which  the  Germans  had  so  wantonly  made 
in  their  retreat  to  the  Hindenburg  line.  Nothing  could 


88  A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

have  been  more  dismal  than  our  slow  progress  in  the 
steady  rain,  through  the  deserted  streets  of  this  town. 
Home  after  home  had  been  blasted  —  their  intimate  yet 
harrowing  interiors  were  revealed.  The  shops  and 
cafes,  which  had  been  thoroughly  looted,  had  their  walls 
blown  out,  but  in  many  cases  the  signs  of  the  vanished 
and  homeless  proprietors  still  hung  above  the  doors.  I 
wondered  how  we  should  feel  in  ISTew  England  if  such  an 
outrage  had  been  done  to  Boston,  for  instance,  or  little 
Concord !  The  church,  the  great  cathedral  on  its  ter- 
race, the  bishop's  house,  all  dynamited,  all  cold  and  wet 
and  filthy  ruins !  It  was  dismal,  indeed,  but  scarcely 
more  dismal  than  that  which  followed ;  for  at  Bapaume 
we  were  on  the  edge  of  the  battle-field  of  the  Somme. 
And  I  chanced  to  remember  that  the  name  had  first  been 
indelibly  impressed  on  my  consciousness  at  a  comfort- 
able breakfast-table  at  home,  where  I  sat  looking  out  on 
a  bright  ISTew  England  garden.  In  the  headlines  and 
columns  of  my  morning  newspaper  I  had  read  again  and 
again,  during  the  summer  of  1916,  of  Thiepval  and  La 
Boisselle,  of  Fricourt  and  Mametz  and  the  Bois  des 
Trones.  Then  they  had  had  a  sinister  but  remote  sig- 
nificance; now  I  was  to  see  them,  or  what  was  left  of 
them ! 

As  an  appropriate  and  characteristic  setting  for  the 
tragedy  which  had  happened  here,  the  indigo  afternoon 
could  not  have  been  better  chosen.  Description  fails 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  89 

to  do  justice  to  the  abomination  of  desolation  of  that  vast 
battle-field  in  the  rain,  and  the  imagination  refuses  to 
reconstruct  the  scene  of  peace  —  the  chateaux  and  happy 
villages,  the  forests  and  pastures,  that  flourished  here  so 
brief  a  time  ago.  In  my  fancy  the  long,  low  swells  of 
land,  like  those  of  some  dreary  sea,  were  for  the  mo- 
ment the  subsiding  waves  of  the  cataclysm  that  had 
rolled  here  and  extinguished  all  life.  Beside  the  road 
only  the  blood-red  soil  betrayed  the  sites  of  powdered 
villages;  and  through  it,  in  every  direction,  trenches 
had  been  cut.  Between  the  trenches  the  earth  was  torn 
and  tortured,  as  though  some  sudden  fossilizing  proc- 
ess, in  its  moment  of  supreme  agony,  had  fixed  it  thus. 
On  the  hummocks  were  graves,  graves  marked  by  wooden 
crosses,  others  by  broken  rifles  thrust  in  the  ground. 
Shattered  gun-carriages  lay  in  the  ditches,  modern  can- 
non that  had  cost  priceless  hours  of  skilled  labour ;  and 
once  we  were  confronted  by  one  of  those  monsters, 
wounded  to  the  death,  I  had  seen  that  morning.  The 
sight  of  this  huge,  helpless  thing  oddly  recalled  the  emo- 
tions I  had  felt,  as  a  child,  when  contemplating  dead 
elephants  in  a  battle  picture  of  the  army  of  a  Persian 
king. 

Presently,  like  the  peak  of  some  submerged  land,  we 
saw  lifted  out  of  that  rolling  waste  the  "  Butt "  of 
Warlencourt  —  the  burial-mound  of  this  modern  Mara- 
thon. It  is  honeycombed  with  dugouts  in  which  the 


90  A  TKAVELLEK  IN  WAE-TIME 

Germans  who  clung  to  it  found  their  graves,  while  the 
victorious  British  army  swept  around  it  toward  Ba- 
paume.  Everywhere  along  that  road,  which  runs  like 
an  arrow  across  the  battle-field  to  Albert,  were  graves. 
Repetition  seems  the  only  method  of  giving  an  ade- 
quate impression  of  their  numbers;  and  near  what  was 
once  the  village  of  Pozieres  was  the  biggest  grave  of  all, 
a  crater  fifty  feet  deep  and  a  hundred  feet  across. 
Seven  months  the  British  sappers  had  toiled  far  below 
in  the  chalk,  digging  the  passage  and  chamber ;  and  one 
summer  dawn,  like  some  tropical  volcano,  it  had  burst 
directly  under  the  German  trench.  Long  we  stood  on 
the  slippery  edge  of  it,  gazing  down  at  the  tangled  wire 
and  litter  of  battle  that  strewed  the  bottom,  while  the 
rain  fell  pitilessly.  Just  such  rain,  said  my  officer- 
guide,  as  had  drenched  this  country  through  the  long 
winter  months  of  preparation.  "  We  never  got  dry,"  he 
told  me ;  and  added  with  a  smile,  in  answer  to  my  query : 
"  Perhaps  that  was  the  reason  we  never  caught  colds." 
When  we  entered  Albert,  the  starting  point  of  the 
British  advance,  there  was  just  light  enough  to  see  the 
statue  of  the  Virgin  leaning  far  above  us  over  the  street. 
The  church-tower  on  which  it  had  once  stood  erect  had 
been  struck  by  a  German  shell,  but  its  steel  rod  had  bent 
and  not  broken.  Local  superstition  declares  that  when 
the  Virgin  of  Albert  falls  the  war  will  be  ended. 


British  Pictorial  Sen-ire. 
THE   SQUARE  AT  ARRAS 


"3*  - 

British  Pictorial  Sen-it:?. 
THE    SQUARE    AT   ALBERT,    SHOWING   THE    LEANING   VIRGIN. 


A  TRAVELLER  IK  WAR-TIME  91 

IV 

I  come  home  impressed  with  the  fact  that  Britain  has 
learned  more  from  this  war  than  any  other  nation,  and 
will  probably  gain  more  by  that  knowledge.  We  are  all 
wanting,  of  course,  to  know  what  we  shall  get  out  of  it, 
since  it  was  forced  upon  us ;  and  of  course  the  only  gain 
worth  considering  —  as  many  of  those  to  whom  its  com- 
ing has  brought  home  the  first  glimmerings  of  social 
science  are  beginning  to  see  —  is  precisely  a  newly  ac- 
quired vision  of  the  art  of  self-government.  It  has  been 
unfortunately  necessary  —  or  perhaps  fortunately  neces- 
sary —  for  the  great  democracies  to  turn  their  energies 
and  resources  and  the  inventive  ingenuity  of  their  citi- 
zens to  the  organization  of  armies  and  indeed  of  entire 
populations  to  the  purpose  of  killing  enough  Germans  to 
remove  democracy's  exterior  menace.  The  price  we  pay 
in  human  life  is  appallingly  unfortunate.  But  the 
necessity  for  national  organization  socializes  the  nation 
capable  of  it ;  or,  to  put  the  matter  more  truly,  if  the  so- 
cializing process  had  anticipated  the  war  —  as  it  had  in 
Great  Britain  —  the  ability  to  complete  it  under  stress 
is  the  test  of  a  democratic  nation ;  and  hence  the  test  of 
democracy,  since  the  socializing  process  becomes  inter- 
national. Britain  has  stood  the  test,  even  from  the  old- 
fashioned  militarist  point  of  view,  since  it  is  apparent 
that  no  democracy  can  wage  a  sustained  great  war  un- 


92  A  TEAVELLEE  IN  WAE-TIME 

less  it  is  socialized.  After  the  war  she  will  probably 
lead  all  other  countries  in  a  sane  and  scientific  liberal- 
ization. The  encouraging  fact  is  that  not  in  spite  of  her 
liberalism,  but  because  of  it,  she  has  met  military  Ger- 
many on  her  own  ground  and,  to  use  a  vigorous  expres- 
sion, gone  her  one  better.  In  1914,  as  armies  go  to- 
day, the  British  Army  was  a  mere  handful  of  men 
whose  officers  belonged  to  a  military  caste.  Brave  men 
and  brave  officers,  indeed !  But  at  present  it  is  a  war 
organization  of  an  excellence  which  the  Germans  never 
surpassed.  I  have  no  space  to  enter  into  a  description 
of  the  amazing  system,  of  the  network  of  arteries  con- 
verging at  the  channel  ports  and  spreading  out  until  it 
feeds  and  clothes  every  man  of  those  millions,  furnishes 
him  with  newspapers  and  tobacco,  and  gives  him  the 
greatest  contentment  compatible  with  the  conditions  un- 
der which  he  has  to  live.  The  number  of  shells  flung  at 
the  enemy  is  only  limited  by  the  lives  of  the  guns  that 
fire  them.  I  should  like  to  tell  with  what  swiftness,  un- 
der the  stress  of  battle,  the  wounded  are  hurried  back  to 
the  coast  and  even  to  England  itself.  I  may  not  state 
the  thousands  carried  on  leave  every  day  across  the 
channel  and  back  again  —  in  spite  of  submarines.  But 
I  went  one  day  through  Saint  Omer,  with  its  beautiful 
church  and  little  blue  chateau,  past  the  rest-camps  of  the 
hig  regiments  of  guards  to  a  seaport  on  the  downs,  for- 
merly a  quiet  little  French  town,  transformed  now  into 


A  TRAVELLER  IX  WAR-TIME  93 

an  ordered  Babel.  The  term  is  paradoxical,  but  I  let  it 
stand.  English,  Irish,  and  Scotch  from  the  British 
Isles  and  the  ends  of  the  earth  mingle  there  with  In- 
dians, Egyptians,  and  the  chattering  Mongolians  in 
queer  fur  caps  who  work  in  the  bakeries. 

I  went  through  one  of  these  bakeries,  almost  as  large 
as  an  automobile  factory,  fragrant  with  the  aroma  of 
two  hundred  thousand  loaves  of  bread.  This  bakery 
alone  sends  every  day  to  the  trenches  two  hundred  thou- 
sand loaves  made  from  the  wheat  of  western  Canada ! 
Of  all  sights  to  be  seen  in  this  place,  however,  the 
reclamation  "  plant "  is  the  most  wonderful.  It  covers 
acres.  Everything  which  is  broken  in  war,  from  a  pair 
of  officer's  field-glasses  to  a  nine-inch  howitzer  carriage 
is  mended  here  —  if  it  can  be  mended.  Here,  when  a 
battle-field  is  cleared,  every  article  that  can  possibly  be 
used  again  is  brought;  and  the  manager  pointed  with 
pride  to  the  furnaces  in  his  power-house,  which  formerly 
burned  coal  and  now  are  fed  with  refuse  —  broken 
wheels  of  gun-carriages,  sawdust,  and  even  old  shoes. 
Hundreds  of  French  girls  and  even  German  prisoners 
are  resoling  and  patching  shoes  with  the  aid  of  American 
machinery,  and  even  the  uppers  of  such  as  are  otherwise 
hopeless  are  cut  in  spirals  into  laces.  Tunics,  breeches, 
and  overcoats  are  mended  by  tailors ;  rusty  camp  cook- 
ers are  retinned,  and  in  the  foundries  the  precious  scraps 
of  cast  iron  are  melted  into  braziers  to  keep  Tommy  in 


94  A  TKAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME 

the  trenches  warm.  In  the  machine-shops  the  injured 
guns  and  cannon  are  repaired.  German  prisoners  are 
working  there,  too.  At  a  distance,  in  their  homely  grey 
tunics,  with  their  bullet-shaped  heads  close-cropped  and 
the  hairs  standing  out  like  the  needles  of  a  cylinder  of  a 
music-box,  they  had  the  appearance  of  hard  citizens  who 
had  become  rather  sullen  convicts.  Some  wore  spec- 
tacles. A  closer  view  revealed  that  most  of  them  were 
contented,  and  some  actually  cheerful.  None,  indeed, 
seemed  more  cheerful  than  a  recently  captured  group 
I  saw  later,  who  were  actually  building  the  barbed-wire 
fence  that  was  to  confine  them ! 

My  last  visit  in  this  town  was  to  the  tiny  hut  on  a 
"  corner  lot,"  in  which  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland  has 
lived  now  for  some  years.  As  we  had  tea  she  told  me 
she  was  going  on  a  fortnight's  leave  to  England;  and 
no  Tommy  in  the  trenches  could  have  been  more  excited 
over  the  prospect.  Her  own  hospital,  which  occupies 
the  rest  of  the  lot,  is  one  of  those  marvels  which  in- 
dividual initiative  and  a  strong  social  sense  such  as  hers 
has  produced  in  this  war.  Special  enterprise  was  re- 
quired to  save  such  desperate  cases  as  are  made  a  spe- 
cialty of  here,  and  all  that  medical  and  surgical  science 
can  do  has  been  concentrated,  with  extraordinary  suc- 
cess, on  the  shattered  men  who  are  brought  to  her  wards. 
That  most  of  the  horrible  fractures  I  saw  are  healed,  and 
healed  quickly  —  thanks  largely  to  the  drainage  system 


A  TRAVELLER  IN  WAR-TIME  95 

of  our  own  Doctor  Carrel  —  is  not  the  least  of  the  won- 
ders of  the  remarkable  times  in  which  we  live. 

The  next  day,  Sunday,  I  left  for  Paris,  bidding  fare- 
well regretfully  to  the  last  of  my  British-officer  hosts. 
He  seemed  like  an  old,  old  friend  —  though  I  had  known 
him  but  a  few  days.  I  can  see  him  now  as  he  waved 
me  a  good-bye  from  the  platform  in  his  Glengarry  cap 
and  short  tunic  and  plaid  trousers.  He  is  the  owner  of 
a  castle  and  some  seventy  square  miles  of  land  in  Scot- 
land alone.  For  the  comfort  of  his  nation's  guests,  he 
toils  like  a  hired  courier. 


AN  ESSAY  ON  THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBU- 
TION AND  THE  DEMOCRATIC  IDEA 


AN  ESSAY  ON  THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBU- 
TION AND  THE  DEMOCRATIC  IDEA 


FAILURE  to  recognize  that  the  American  is  at 
heart  an  idealist  is  to  lack  understanding  of  our 
national  character.  Two  of  our  greatest  interpreters 
proclaimed  it,  Emerson  and  William  James.  In  a  re- 
cent address  at  the  Paris  Sorbonne  on  "  American 
Idealism,"  M.  Firmm  Roz  l  observed  that  a  people  is 
rarely  justly  estimated  by  its  contemporaries.  The 
French,  he  says,  have  been  celebrated  chiefly  for  the 
skill  of  their  chefs  and  their  vaudeville  actors,  while  in 
the  disturbed  speculum  mundi  Americans  have  appeared 
as  a  collection  of  money  grubbers  whose  philosophy  is 
the  dollar.  It  remained  for  the  war  to  reveal  the  true 
nature  of  both  peoples.  The  American  colonists,  M. 
Roz  continues,  unlike  other  colonists,  were  animated  not 
by  material  motives,  but  by  the  desire  to  safeguard  and 
realize  an  ideal;  our  inherent  characteristic  today  is  a 
belief  in  the  virtue  and  power  of  ideas,  of  a  national, 

i  Secretaire  de  la  Section  France-Etats  Unia  due  Comit6  France- 
Amerique. 

90 


100      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

indeed,  of  a  universal,  mission.  In  the  Eighteenth 
Century  we  proposed  a  Philosophy  and  adopted  a  Con- 
stitution far  in  advance  of  the  political  practice  of  the 
day,  and  set  up  a  government  of  which  Europe  predicted 
the  early  downfall.  Nevertheless,  thanks  partly  to  good 
fortune,  and  to  the  farseeing  wisdom  of  our  early  states- 
men who  perceived  that  the  success  of  our  experiment 
depended  upon  the  maintenance  of  an  isolation  from 
European  affairs,  we  established  democracy  as  a  prac- 
tical form  of  government. 

We  have  not  always  lived  up  to  our  beliefs  in  ideas. 
In  our  dealings  with  other  nations,  we  yielded  often  to 
imperialistic  ambitions  and  thus,  to  a  certain  extent, 
justified  the  cynicism  of  Europe.  We  took  what  we 
wanted  —  and  more.  Erom  Spain  we  seized  western 
Florida;  the  annexation  of  Texas  and  the  subsequent 
war  with  Mexico  are  acts  upon  which  we  cannot  look 
back  with  unmixed  democratic  pride;  while  more  than 
once  we  professed  a  naive  willingness  to  fight  England 
in  order  to  push  our  boundaries  further  north.  We 
regarded  the  Monroe  Doctrine  as  altruistic,  while  others 
smiled.  But  it  suited  England,  and  her  sea  power  gave 
it  force. 

Our  war  with  Spain  in  1898,  however,  was  fought  for 
an  idea,  and,  despite  the  imperialistic  impulse  that  fol- 
lowed it,  marks  a  transition,  an  advance,  in  international 
ethics.  Imperialistic  cynics  were  not  lacking  to  scoff 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      101 

at  our  protestation  that  we  were  fighting  Spain  in  order 
to  liberate  Cuba ;  and  yet  this,  for  the  American 
people  at  large,  was  undoubtedly  the  inspiration  of  the 
war.  We  kept  our  promise,  we  did  not  annex  Cuba,  we 
introduced  into  international  affairs  what  is  known  as 
the  Big  Brother  idea.  Then  came  the  Platt  Amend- 
ment. Cuba  was  free,  but  she  must  not  wallow  near 
our  shores  in  an  unhygienic  state,  or  borrow  money 
without  our  consent.  We  acquired  valuable  naval 
bases.  Moreover,  the  sudden  and  unexpected  acquisi- 
tion of  Porto  Rico  and  the  Philippines  made  us  impe- 
rialists in  spite  of  ourselves. 

Nations  as  well  as  individuals,  however,  must  be 
judged  by  their  intentions.  The  sound  public  opinion 
of  our  people  has  undoubtedly  remained  in  favour  of 
ultimate  self-government  for  the  Philippines,  and  the 
greatest  measure  of  self-determination  for  little  Porto 
Rico;  it  has  been  unquestionably  opposed  to  commercial 
exploitation  of  the  islands,  desirous  of  yielding  to  these 
peoples  the  fruits  of  their  labour  in  developing  the  re- 
sources of  their  own  lands.  An  intention,  by  the  way, 
diametrically  different  from  that  of  Germany.  In  re- 
gard to  our  protectorate  in.  the  island  of  San  Domingo, 
our  "  semi-protectorate  "  in  Nicaragua,  the  same  argu- 
ment of  intention  may  fairly  be  urged.  Germany,  who 
desired  them,  would  have  exploited  them.  To  a  cer- 
tain extent,  no  doubt,  as  a  result  of  the  momentum  of 


102      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

commercial  imperialism,  we  are  still  exploiting  them. 
But  the  attitude  of  the  majority  of  Americans  toward 
more  backward  peoples  is  not  cynical ;  hence  there  is 
hope  that  a  democratic  solution  of  the  Caribbean  and 
Central  American  problem  may  be  found.  And  we  are 
not  ready,  as  yet,  to  accept  without  further  experiment 
the  dogma  that  tropical  and  sub-tropical  people  will  not 
ultimately  be  able  to  govern  themselves.  If  this  even- 
tually prove  to  be  the  case,  at  least  some  such  experi- 
ment as  the  new  British  Labour  Party  has  proposed  for 
the  Empire  may  be  tried.  Our  general  theory  that  the 
exploitation  of  foreign  peoples  reacts  unfavourably  on 
the  exploiters  is  undoubtedly  sound. 

Nor  are  the  ethics  of  the  manner  of  our  acquisition 
of  a  part  of  Panama  and  the  Canal  wholly  defensible 
from  the  point  of  view  of  international  democracy. 
Yet  it  must  be  remembered  that  President  Roosevelt 
was  dealing  with  a  corrupt,  irresponsible,  and  hostile 
government,  and  that  the  Canal  had  become  a  necessity 
not  only  for  our  own  development,  but  for  that  of  the 
civilization  of  the  world. 

The  Spanish  War,  as  has  been  said,  marked  a  transi- 
tion, a  development  of  the  American  Idea.  In  obedi- 
ence to  a  growing  perception  that  dominion  and  exploi- 
tation are  incompatible  with  and  detrimental  to  our 
system  of  government,  we  fought  in  good  faith  to  gain 
self-determination  for  an  alien  people.  The  only  real 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      103 

peril  confronting  democracy  is  the  arrest  of  growth. 
Its  true  conquests  are  in  the  realms  of  ideas,  and  hence 
it  calls  for  a  statesmanship  which,  while  not  breaking 
with  the  past,  while  taking  into  account  the  inherent 
nature  of  a  people,  is  able  to  deal  creatively  with  new 
situations  —  always  under  the  guidance  of  current 
social  science. 

Woodrow  Wilson's  Mexican  policy,  being  a  projection 
of  the  American  Idea  to  foreign  affairs,  a  step  toward 
international  democracy,  marks  the  beginning  of  a  new 
era.  Though  not  wholly  understood,  though  opposed  by 
a  powerful  minority  of  our  citizens,  it  stirred  the  con- 
sciousness of  a  national  mission  to  which  our  people  are 
invariably  ready  to  respond.  Since  it  was  essentially 
experimental,  and  therefore  not  lacking  in  mistakes, 
there  was  ample  opportunity  for  a  criticism  that  seemed 
at  times  extremely  plausible.  The  old  and  tried  method 
of  dealing  with  such  anarchy  as  existed  across  our  south- 
ern border  was  made  to  seem  the  safe  one;  while  the 
new,  because  it  was  untried,  was  presented  as  disastrous. 
In  reality,  the  reverse  was  the  case. 

Mr.  Wilson's  opponents  were,  generally  speaking,  the 
commercial  classes  in  the  community,  whose  environ- 
ment and  training  led  them  to  demand  a  foreign  policy 
similar  to  that  of  other  great  powers,  a  financial  impe- 
rialism which  is  the  logical  counterpart  in  foreign 
affairs  of  the  commercial  exploitation  of  domestic  na- 


104     THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

tional  resources  and  domestic  labour.  These  were  the 
classes  which  combated  the  growth  of  democracy  at 
home,  in  national  and  state  politics.  From  their  point 
of  view  —  not  that  of  the  larger  vision  —  they  were 
consistent.  On  the  other  hand,  the  nation  grasped  the 
fact  that  to  have  one  brand  of  democracy  at  home  and 
another  for  dealing  with  foreign  nations  was  not  only 
illogical  but,  in  the  long  run,  would  be  suicidal  to  the 
Republic.  And  the  people  at  large  were  committed  to 
democratic  progress  at  home.  They  were  struggling 
for  it. 

One  of  the  most  important  issues  of  the  American 
liberal  movement  early  in  this  century  had  been  that 
for  the  conservation  of  what  remains  of  our  natural 
resources  of  coal  and  metals  and  oil  and  timber  and 
waterpower  for  the  benefit  of  all  the  people,  on  the 
theory  that  these  are  the  property  of  the  people.  But 
if  the  natural  resources  of  this  country  belong  to  the 
people  of  the  United  States,  those  of  Mexico  belong  to 
the  people  of  Mexico.  It  makes  no  difference  how 
"  lazy,"  ignorant,  and  indifferent  to  their  own  interests 
the  Mexicans  at  present  may  be.  And  even  more  im- 
portant in  these  liberal  campaigns  was  the  issue  of  the 
conservation  of  human  resources  —  men  and  women  and 
children  who  are  forced  by  necessity  to  labour.  These 
must  be  protected  in  health,  given  economic  freedom 
and  a  just  reward  for  their  toil.  The  American  democ- 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      105 

racy,  committed  to  the  principle  of  the  conservation  of 
domestic  natural  and  human  resources,  could  not  with- 
out detriment  to  itself  persist  in  a  foreign  policy  that 
ignored  them.  Eor  many  years  our  own  government 
had  permitted  the  squandering  of  these  resources  by 
adventurous  capitalists;  and  gradually,  as  we  became 
a  rich  industrial  nation,  these  capitalists  sought  profit- 
able investments  for  their  increasing  surplus  in  foreign 
lands.  Their  manner  of  acquiring  "  concessions  "  in 
Mexico  was  quite  similar  to  that  by  which  they  had 
seized  —  because  of  the  indifference  and  ignorance  of 
our  own  people  —  our  own  mines  and  timber  lands 
which  our  government  held  in  trust.  Sometimes  these 
American  "  concessions "  have  been  valid  in  law  — 
though  the  law  itself  violated  a  democratic  principle; 
more  often  corrupt  officials  winked  at  violations  of  the 
law,  enabling  capitalists  to  absorb  bogus  claims. 

The  various  rulers  of  Mexico  sold  to  American  and 
other  foreign  capitalists  the  resources  belonging  to  the 
people  of  their  country,  and  pocketed,  with  their  fol- 
lowers, the  proceeds  of  the  sale.  Their  control  of  the 
country  rested  upon  force;  the  stability  of  the  Diaz 
rule,  for  instance,  depended  upon  the  "  President's  " 
ablity  to  maintain  his  dictatorship  —  a  precarious  guar- 
antee to  the  titles  he  had  given.  Hence  the  premium 
on  revolutions.  There  was  always  the  incentive  to  the 
upstart  political  and  military  buccaneer  to  overthrow 


106      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION" 

the  dictator  and  gain  possession  of  the  spoils,  to  sell  new 
doubtful  concessions  and  levy  new  tribute  on  the  capi- 
talists holding  claims  from  a  former  tyrant. 

The  foreign  capitalists  appealed  to  their  governments ; 
commercial  imperialism  responded  by  dispatching  mili- 
tary forces  to  protect  the  lives  and  "  property  "  of  its 
citizens,  in  some  instances  going  so  far  as  to  take  pos- 
session of  the  country.  A  classic  case,  as  cited  by  Hob- 
son,  is  Britain's  South  African  War,  in  which  the  blood 
and  treasure  of  the  people  of  the  United  Kingdom  were 
expended  because  British  capitalists  had  found  the 
Boers  recalcitrant,  bent  on  retaining  their  own  country 
for  themselves.  To  be  sure,  South  Africa,  like  Mexico, 
is  rich  in  resources  for  which  advancing  civilization  con- 
tinually makes  demands.  And,  in  the  case  of  Mexico, 
the  products  of  the  tropics,  such  as  rubber,  are  increas- 
ingly necessary  to  the  industrial  powers  of  the  temper- 
ate zone.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  exploiting  nation 
aspire  to  self-government,  the  imperialistic  method  of 
obtaining  these  products  by  the  selfish  exploitation  of 
the  natural  and  human  resources  of  the  backward  coun- 
tries reacts  so  powerfully  on  the  growth  of  democracy  at 
home  —  and  hence  on  the  growth  of  democracy  through- 
out the  world  —  as  to  threaten  the  very  future  of  civili- 
zation. The  British  Liberals,  when  they  came  into 
power,  perceived  this,  and  at  once  did  their  best  to  make 
amends  to  South  Africa  by  granting  her  autonomy  and 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      107 

virtual  independence,  linking  her  to  Britain  by  the 
silken  thread  of  Anglo-Saxon  democratic  culture.  How 
strong  this  thread  has  proved  is  shown  by  the  action  of 
those  of  Dutch  blood  in  the  Dominion  during  the  pres- 
ent war. 

Eventually,  if  democracy  is  not  to  perish  from  the 
face  of  the  earth,  some  other  than  the  crude  imperial- 
istic method  of  dealing  with  backward  peoples,  of  obtain- 
ing for  civilization  the  needed  resources  of  their  lands, 
must  be  inaugurated  —  a  democratic  method.  And 
this  is  perhaps  the  supreme  problem  of  democracy  today. 
It  demands  for  its  solution  a  complete  reversal  of  the 
established  policy  of  imperialism,  a  new  theory  of  inter- 
national relationships,  a  mutual  helpfulness  and  part- 
nership between  nations,  even  as  democracy  implies 
co-operation  between  individual  citizens.  Therefore 
President  Wilson  laid  down  the  doctrine  that  American 
citizens  enter  Mexico  at  their  own  risk ;  that  they  must 
not  expect  that  American  blood  will  be  shed  or  the 
nation's  money  be  expended  to  protect  their  lives  or  the 
"  property  "  they  have  acquired  from  Mexican  dictators. 
This  applies  also  to  the  small  capitalists,  the  owners  of 
the  coffee  plantations,  as  well  as  to  those  Americans  in 
Mexico  who  are  not  capitalists  but  wage  earners.  The 
people  of  Mexico  are  entitled  to  try  the  experiment  of 
self-determination.  It  is  an  experiment,  we  frankly 
acknowledge  that  fact,  a  democratic  experiment  depend- 


108      THE  AMERICAN"  CONTRIBUTION 

ent  on  physical  science,  social  science,  and  scientific 
education.  The  other  horn  of  the  dilemma,  our  per- 
sistence in  imperialism,  is  even  worse  —  since  by  such 
persistence  we  destroy  ourselves. 

A  subjective  judgment,  in  accordance  with  our  own 
democratic  standards,  by  the  American  Government  as 
to  the  methods  employed  by  a  Huerta,  for  instance,  is 
indeed  demanded ;  not  on  the  ground,  however,  that  such 
methods  are  "  good  "  or  "  bad  " ;  but  whether  they  are 
detrimental  to  Mexican  self-determination,  and  hence 
to  the  progress  of  our  own  democracy. 

II 

If  America  had  started  to  prepare  when  Belgium  was 
invaded,  had  entered  the  war  when  the  Lusitania  was 
sunk,  Germany  might  by  now  have  been  defeated,  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  lives  might  have  been  spared.  All 
this  may  be  admitted.  Yet,  looking  backward,  it  is  easy 
to  read  the  reason  for  our  hesitancy  in  our  national 
character  and  traditions.  We  were  pacifists,  yes,  but 
pacifists  of  a  peculiar  kind.  One  of  our  greatest  Ameri- 
can prophets,  William  James,  knew  that  there  was  an 
issue  for  which  we  were  ready  to  fight,  for  which  we 
were  willing  to  make  the  extreme  sacrifice, —  and  that 
issue  he  defined  as  "  war  against  war."  It  remained 
for  America  to  make  the  issue. 

Peoples  do  not  rush  to  arms  unless  their  national 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      109 

existence  is  threatened.  It  is  what  may  be  called  the 
environmental  cause  that  drives  nations  quickly  into 
war.  It  drove  the  Entente  nations  into  war,  though 
incidentally  they  were  struggling  for  certain  democratic 
institutions,  for  international  justice.  But  in  the  case 
of  America,  the  environmental  cause  was  absent. 
Whether  or  not  our  national  existence  was  or  is  actually 
threatened,  the  average  American  does  not  believe  that 
it  is.  He  was  called  upon  to  abandon  his  tradition,  to 
mingle  in  a  European  conflict,  to  fight  for  an  idea 
alone.  Ideas  require  time  to  develop,  to  seize  the 
imagination  of  masses.  And  it  must  be  remembered 
that  in  1914  the  great  issue  had  not  been  defined.  Curi- 
ously enough,  now  that  it  is  defined,  it  proves  to  be  an 
American  issue  —  a  logical  and  positive  projection  of 
our  Washingtonian  tradition  and  Monroe  doctrine. 
These  had  for  their  object  the  preservation  and  develop- 
ment of  democracy,  the  banishment  from  the  Western 
Hemisphere  of  European  imperialistic  conflict  and  war. 
We  are  now,  with  the  help  of  our  allies,  striving  to  ban- 
ish these  things  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  It  is  un- 
doubtedly the  greatest  idea  for  which  man  has  been 
summoned  to  make  the  supreme  sacrifice. 

Its  evolution  has  been  traced.  Democracy  was  the 
issue  in  the  Spanish  War,  when  we  fought  a  weak  na- 
tion. We  have  followed  its  broader  application  to 
Mexico,  when  we  were  willing  to  ignore  the  taunts  and 


110      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

insults  of  another  weak  nation,  even  the  loss  of  "  pres- 
tige," for  the  sake  of  the  larger  good.  And  we  have 
now  the  clue  to  the  President's  interpretation  of  the 
nation's  mind  during  the  first  three  years  of  the  present 
war.  We  were  willing  to  bear  the  taunts  and  insults  of 
Germany  so  long  as  it  appeared  that  a  future  world 
peace  might  best  be  brought  about  by  the  preservation 
of  neutrality,  by  turning  the  weight  of  the  impartial 
public  opinion  of  our  democracy  and  that  of  other  neu- 
trals against  militarism  and  imperialism.  Our  na- 
tional aim  was  ever  consistent  with  the  ideal  of  William 
James,  to  advance  democracy  and  put  an  end  to  the 
evil  of  war. 

The  only  sufficient  reason  for  the  abandonment  of  the 
Washingtonian  policy  is  the  furtherance  of  the  object 
for  which  it  was  inaugurated,  the  advance  of  democ- 
racy. And  we  had  established  the  precedent,  with 
Spain  and  Mexico,  that  the  Republic  shall  engage  in  no 
war  of  imperialistic  conquest.  We  war  only  in  behalf 
of,  or  in  defence  of,  democracy. 

Before  the  entrance  of  America,  however,  the  issues 
of  the  European  War  were  by  no  means  clear  cut  along 
democratic  lines.  What  kind  of  democracy  were  the 
allies  fighting  for  ?  Nowhere  and  at  no  time  had  it  been 
defined  by  any  of  their  statesmen.  On  the  contrary, 
the  various  allied  governments  had  entered  into  com- 
pacts for  the  transference  of  territory  in  the  event  of 


THE  AMERICAN"  CONTRIBUTION     111 

victory;  and  had  even,  by  the  offer  of  rewards,  sought 
to  play  one  small  nation  against  another.  This  secret 
diplomacy  of  bargains,  of  course,  was  a  European  herit- 
age, the  result  of  an  imperialistic  environment  which 
the  American  did  not  understand,  and  from  which  he 
was  happily  free.  Its  effect  on  France  is  peculiarly 
enlightening.  The  hostility  of  European  governments, 
due  to  their  fear  of  her  republican  institutions,  retarded 
her  democratic  growth,  and  her  history  during  the  reign 
of  Napoleon  III  is  one  of  intrigue  for  aggrandizement 
differing  from  Bismarck's  only  in  the  fact  that  it  was 
unsuccessful.  Britain,  because  she  was  separated  from 
the  continent  and  protected  by  her  fleet,  virtually  with- 
drew from  European  affairs  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  and,  as  a  result,  made  great  strides 
in  democracy.  The  aggressions  of  Germany  forced 
Britain  in  self-defence  into  coalitions.  Because  of  her 
power  and  wealth  she  became  the  Entente  leader,  yet 
her  liberal  government  was  compelled  to  enter  into  secret 
agreements  with  certain  allied  governments  in  order  to 
satisfy  what  they  deemed  to  be  their  needs  and  just 
ambitions.  She  had  honestly  sought,  before  the  war,  to 
come  to  terms  with  Germany,  and  had  even  proposed 
gradual  disarmament.  But,  despite  the  best  intentions, 
circumstances  and  environment,  as  well  as  the  precari- 
ous situation  of  her  empire,  prevented  her  from  liberal- 
izing her  foreign  relations  to  conform  with  the  growth 


of  democracy  within  the  United  Kingdom  and  the 
Dominions. 

Americans  felt  a  profound  pity  for  Belgium.  But 
she  was  not,  as  Cuba  had  been,  our  affair.  The  great 
majority  of  our  citizens  sympathized  with  the  Entente, 
regarded  with  amazement  and  disgust  the  sudden  dis- 
closure of  the  true  character  of  the  German  militaristic 
government.  Yet  for  the  average  American  the  war 
wore  the  complexion  of  other  European  conflicts,  was 
one  involving  a  Balance  of  Power,  mysterious  and  inex- 
plicable. To  him  the  underlying  issue  was  not  demo- 
cratic, but  imperialistic ;  and  this  was  partly  because  he 
was  unable  to  make  a  mental  connection  between  a  Euro- 
pean war  and  the  brand  of  democracy  he  recognized. 
Preaching  and  propaganda  fail  unless  it  can  be  brought 
home  to  a  people  that  something  dear  to  their  inner- 
most nature  is  at  stake,  that  the  fate  of  the  thing  they 
most  desire,  and  are  willing  to  make  sacrifices  for,  hangs 
in  the  balance. 

During  a  decade  the  old  political  parties,  between 
which  there  was  now  little  more  than  an  artificial  align- 
ment, had  been  breaking  up.  Americans  were  absorbed 
in  the  great  liberal  movement  begun  under  the  leader- 
ship of  President  Roosevelt,  the  result  of  which  was  to 
transform  democracy  from  a  static  to  a  pragmatic  and 
evolutionary  conception, —  in  order  to  meet  and  correct 
new  and  unforeseen  evils.  Political  freedom  was  seen 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      113 

to  be  of  little  worth  unless  also  accompanied  by  the 
economic  freedom  the  nation  had  enjoyed  before  the 
advent  of  industrialism.  Clerks  and  farmers,  profes- 
sional men  and  shopkeepers  and  artisans  were  ready 
to  follow  the  liberal  leaders  in  states  and  nation ;  intel- 
lectual elements  from  colleges  and  universities  were  en- 
listed. Paralleling  the  movement,  at  times  mingling 
with  it,  was  the  revolt  of  labour,  manifested  not  only 
in  political  action,  but  in  strikes  and  violence.  Readily 
accessible  books  and  magazines  together  with  club  and 
forum  lectures  in  cities,  towns,  and  villages  were  rap- 
idly educating  the  population  in  social  science,  and  the 
result  was  a  growing  independent  vote  to  make  politi- 
cians despair. 

Here  was  an  instance  of  a  democratic  culture  growing 
in  isolation,  resentful  of  all  external  interference.  To 
millions  of  Americans  —  especially  in  our  middle  west- 
ern and  western  states  —  bent  upon  social  reforms,  the 
European  War  appeared  as  an  arresting  influence. 
American  participation  meant  the  triumph  of  the  forces 
of  reaction.  Colour  was  lent  to  this  belief  because 
the  conservative  element  which  had  opposed  social  re- 
forms was  loudest  in  its  demand  for  intervention.  The 
wealthy  and  travelled  classes  organized  preparedness 
parades  and  distributed  propaganda.  In  short,  those 
who  had  apparently  done  their  utmost  to  oppose  democ- 
racy at  home  were  most  insistent  that  we  should  embark 


upon  a  war  for  democracy  across  the  seas.  Again,  what 
kind  of  democracy  ?  Obviously  a  status  quo,  commer- 
cially imperialistic  democracy,  which  the  awakening 
liberal  was  bent  upon  abolishing. 

There  is  undoubtedly  in  such  an  office  as  the  Ameri- 
can presidency  some  virtue  which,  in  times  of  crisis, 
inspires  in  capable  men  an  intellectual  and  moral 
growth  proportional  to  developing  events.  Lincoln,  our 
most  striking  example,  grew  more  between  1861  and 
1865  than  during  all  the  earlier  years  of  his  life.  Nor 
is  the  growth  of  democratic  leaders,  when  seen  through 
the  distorted  passions  of  their  day,  apparently  a  con- 
sistent thing.  Greatness,  near  at  hand,  is  startlingly 
like  inconsistency ;  it  seems  at  moments  to  vacillate,  to 
turn  back  upon  and  deny  itself,  and  thus  lays  itself 
open  to  seemingly  plausible  criticism  by  politicians  and 
time  servers  and  all  who  cry  out  for  precedent.  Yet  it 
is  an  interesting  and  encouraging  fact  that  the  faith  of 
democratic  peoples  goes  out,  and  goes  out  alone,  to 
leaders  who  —  whatever  their  minor  faults  and  fail- 
ings—  do  not  fear  to  reverse  themselves  when  occa- 
sion demands ;  to  enunciate  new  doctrines,  seemingly  in 
contradiction  to  former  assertions,  to  meet  new  crises. 
When  a  democratic  leader  who  has  given  evidence  of 
greatness  ceases  to  develop  new  ideas,  he  loses  the  pub- 
lic confidence.  He  flops  back  into  the  ranks  of  the  con- 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      115 

servatives  he  formerly  opposed,  who  catch  up  with  him 
only  when  he  ceases  to  grow. 

In  1916  the  majority  of  the  American  people  elected 
Mr.  Wilson  in  the  belief  that  he  would  keep  them  out  of 
war.  In  1917  he  entered  the  war  with  the  nation  be- 
hind him.  A  recalcitrant  Middle  West  was  the  first  to 
fill  its  quota  of  volunteers,  and  we  witnessed  the  extraor- 
dinary spectacle  of  the  endorsement  of  conscription. 
What  had  happened  ?  A  very  simple,  but  a  very  great 
thing.  Mr.  Wilson  had  made  the  issue  of  the  war  a 
democratic  issue,  an  American  issue,  in  harmony  with 
our  national  hopes  and  traditions.  But  why  could  not 
this  issue  have  been  announced  in  1914  or  1915  ?  The 
answer  seems  to  be  that  peoples,  as  well  as  their  leaders 
and  interpreters,  must  grow  to  meet  critical  situations. 
In  1861  the  moral  idea  of  the  Civil  War  was  obscured 
and  hidden  by  economic  and  material  interests.  The 
Abraham  Lincoln  who  entered  the  White  House  in  1861 
was  indeed  the  same  man  who  signed  the  Emancipation 
Proclamation  in  1863 ;  and  yet,  in  a  sense,  he  was  not 
the  same  man ;  events  and  responsibilities  had  effected  a 
profound  but  logical  growth  in  his  personality.  And 
the  people  of  the  Union  were  not  ready  to  endorse 
Emancipation  in  1861.  In  1863,  in  the  darkest  hour  of 
the  war,  the  spirit  of  the  North  responded  to  the  call, 
and,  despite  the  vilification  of  the  President,  was  true 


116      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

to  him  to  victory.  More  significant  still,  in  view  of  the 
events  of  today,  is  what  then  occurred  in  England.  The 
British  Government  was  unfriendly ;  the  British  people 
as  a  whole  had  looked  upon  our  Civil  War  very  much 
in  the  same  light  as  the  American  people  regarded  the 
present  war  at  its  inception  —  which  is  to  say  that  the 
economic  and  materialistic  issue  seemed  to  overshadow 
the  moral  one.  But  when  Abraham  Lincoln  proclaimed 
it  to  be  a  war  for  human  freedom,  the  sentiment  of  the 
British  people  changed  —  of  the  British  people  as  dis- 
tinct from  the  governing  classes ;  and  the  textile  workers 
of  the  northern  counties,  whose  mills  could  not  get  cot- 
ton on  account  of  the  blockade,  declared  their  willing- 
ness to  suffer  and  starve  if  the  slaves  in  America  might 
be  freed. 

Abraham  Lincoln  at  that  time  represented  the  Ameri- 
can people  as  the  British  Government  did  not  represent 
the  British  people.  We  are  concerned  today  with  peo- 
ples rather  than  governments. 

It  remained  for  an  American  President  to  announce 
the  moral  issue  of  the  present  war,  and  thus  to  solidify 
behind  him,  not  only  the  liberal  mind  of  America,  but 
the  liberal  elements  within  the  nations  of  Europe.  He 
became  the  democratic  leader  of  the  world.  The  issue, 
simply  stated,  is  the  advancement  of  democracy  and 
peace.  They  are  inseparable.  Democracy,  for  prog- 
ress, demands  peace.  It  had  reached  a  stage,  when,  in 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      117 

a  contracting  world,  it  could  no  longer  advance  through 
isolation :  its  very  existence  in  every  country  was  threat- 
ened, not  only  by  the  partisans  of  reaction  from  within, 
but  by  the  menace  from  without  of  a  militaristic  and 
imperialistic  nation  determined  to  crush  it,  restore  su- 
perimposed authority,  and  dominate  the  globe.  Democ- 
racy, divided  against  itself,  cannot  stand.  A  league  of 
democratic  nations,  of  democratic  peoples,  has  become 
imperative.  Hereafter,  if  democracy  wins,  self-deter- 
mination, and  not  imperialistic  exploitation,  is  to  be 
the  universal  rule.  It  is  the  extension,  on  a  world 
scale,  of  Mr.  Wilson's  Mexican  policy,  the  application 
of  democratic  principles  to  international  relationships, 
and  marks  the  inauguration  of  a  new  era.  We  resort 
to  force  against  force,  not  for  dominion,  but  to  make  the 
world  safe  for  the  idea  on  which  we  believe  the  future 
of  civilization  depends,  the  sacred  right  of  self-govern- 
ment. We  stand  prepared  to  treat  with  the  German 
people  when  they  are  ready  to  cast  off  autocracy  and 
militarism.  Our  attitude  toward  them  is  precisely  our 
attitude  toward  the  Mexican  people.  We  believe,  and 
with  good  reason,  that  the  German  system  of  education 
is  authoritative  and  false,  and  was  more  or  less  delib- 
erately conceived  in  order  to  warp  the  nature  and  pro- 
duce complexes  in  the  mind  of  the  German  people  for 
the  end  of  preserving  and  perpetuating  the  power  of 
the  Junkers.  We  have  no  quarrel  with  the  duped  and 


118      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

oppressed,  but  we  war  against  the  agents  of  oppression. 

To  the  conservative  mind  such  an  aspiration  appears 
chimerical.  But  America,  youngest  of  the  nations,  was 
born  when  modern  science  was  gathering  the  momentum 
which  since  has  enabled  it  to  overcome,  with  a  bewilder- 
ing rapidity,  many  evils  previously  held  by  superstition 
to  be  ineradicable.  As  a  corollary  to  our  democratic 
creed,  we  accepted  the  dictum  that  to  human  intelligence 
all  things  are  possible.  The  virtue  of  this  dictum  lies 
not  in  dogma,  but  in  an  indomitable  attitude  of  mind 
to  which  the  world  owes  its  every  advance  in  civiliza- 
tion; quixotic,  perhaps,  but  necessary  to  great  accom- 
plishment. In  searching  for  a  present-day  protagonist, 
no  happier  example  could  be  found  than  Mr.  Henry 
Ford,  who  exhibits  the  characteristic  American  mixture 
of  the  practical  and  the  ideal.  He  introduces  into  in- 
dustry humanitarian  practices  that  even  tend  to  increase 
the  vast  fortune  which  by  his  own  efforts  he  has  accumu- 
lated. He  sees  that  democratic  peoples  do  not  desire 
to  go  to  war,  he  does  not  believe  that  war  is  necessary 
and  inevitable,  he  lays  himself  open  to  ridicule  by 
financing  a  Peace  Mission.  Circumstances  force  him 
to  abandon  his  project,  but  he  is  not  for  one  moment 
discouraged.  His  intention  remains.  He  throws  all 
his  energy  and  wealth  into  a  war  to  end  war,  and  the 
value  of  his  contribution  is  inestimable. 

A  study  of  Mr.  Ford's  mental  processes  and  acts  illu- 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      119 

minates  the  true  mind  of  America.  In  the  autumn  of 
1916  Mr.  Wilson  declared  that  "  the  people  of  the 
United  States  want  to  be  sure  what  they  are  fighting 
about,  and  they  want  to  be  sure  that  they  are  fighting 
for  the  things  that  will  bring  the  world  justice  and 
peace.  Define  the  elements;  let  us  know  that  we  are 
not  fighting  for  the  prevalence  of  this  nation  over  that, 
for  the  ambitions  of  this  group  of  nations  as  compared 
with  the  ambitions  of  that  group  of  nations,  let  us  once 
be  convinced  that  we  are  called  in  to  a  great  combina- 
tion for  the  rights  of  mankind,  and  America  will  unite 
her  force  and  spill  her  blood  for  the  great  things  she 
has  always  believed  in  and  followed." 

"  America  is  always  ready  to  fight  for  the  things 
which  are  American."  Even  in  these  sombre  days  that 
mark  the  anniversary  of  our  entrance  into  the  war. 
But  let  it  be  remembered  that  it  was  in  the  darkest 
days  of  the  Civil  War  Abraham  Lincoln  boldly  pro- 
claimed the  democratic,  idealistic  issue  of  that  struggle. 
The  Russian  Revolution,  which  we  must  seek  to  under- 
stand and  not  condemn,  the  Allied  defeats  that  are  its 
consequences,  can  only  make  our  purpose  the  firmer  to 
put  forth  all  our  strength  for  the  building  up  of  a  better 
world.  The  President's  masterly  series  of  state  pa- 
pers, distributed  in  all  parts  of  the  globe,  have  indeed 
been  so  many  Proclamations  of  Emancipation  for  the 
world's  oppressed.  Not  only  powerful  nations  shall 


cease  to  exploit  little  nations,  but  powerful  individuals 
shall  cease  to  exploit  their  fellow  men.  Henceforth  no 
wars  for  dominion  shall  be  waged,  and  to  this  end  secret 
treaties  shall  be  abolished.  Peoples  through  their  rep- 
resentatives shall  make  their  own  treaties.  And  just  as 
democracy  insures  to  the  individual  the  greatest  amount 
of  self-determination,  nations  also  shall  have  self-deter- 
mination, in  order  that  each  shall  be  free  to  make  its 
world  contribution.  All  citizens  have  duties  to  perform 
toward  their  fellow  citizens ;  all  democratic  nations  must 
be  interdependent. 

With  this  purpose  America  has  entered  the  war. 
But  it  implies  that  our  own  household  must  be  swept 
and  cleaned.  The  injustices  and  inequalities  existing 
in  our  own  country,  the  false  standards  of  worth,  the 
materialism,  the  luxury  and  waste  must  be  purged  from 
our  midst. 

Ill 

In  fighting  Germany  we  are  indeed  fighting  an  evil 
Will  —  evil  because  it  seeks  to  crush  the  growth  of 
individual  and  national  freedom.  Its  object  is  to  put 
the  world  back  under  the  thrall  of  self-constituted  au- 
thority. So  long  as  this  Will  can  compel  the  bodies  of 
soldiers  to  do  its  bidding,  these  bodies  must  be  de- 
stroyed. Until  the  Will  behind  them  is  broken,  the 
world  cannot  be  free.  Junkerism  is  the  final  expression 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      121 

of  reaction,  organized  to  the  highest  efficiency.  The 
war  against  the  Junkers  marks  the  consummation  of  a 
long  struggle  for  human  liberty  in  all  lands,  symbolizes 
the  real  cleavage  dividing  the  world.  As  in  the  French 
Revolution  and  the  wars  that  followed  it,  the  true  sig- 
nificance of  this  war  is  social.  But  today  the  Russian 
Revolution  sounds  the  keynote.  Revolutions  tend  to 
express  the  extremes  of  the  philosophies  of  their  times 
—  human  desires,  discontents,  and  passions  that  cannot 
be  organized.  The  French  Revolution  was  a  struggle 
for  political  freedom ;  the  underlying  issue  of  the  pres- 
ent war  is  economic  freedom  —  without  which  political 
freedom  is  of  no  account.  It  will  not,  therefore,  suffice 
merely  to  crush  the  Junkers,  and  with  them  militarism 
and  autocracy.  Unless,  as  the  fruit  of  this  appalling 
bloodshed  and  suffering,  the  democracies  achieve  eco- 
nomic freedom,  the  war  will  have  been  fought  in  vain. 
More  revolutions,  wastage  and  bloodshed  will  follow, 
the  world  will  be  reduced  to  absolute  chaos  unless,  in 
the  more  advanced  democracies,  an  intelligent  social 
order  tending  to  remove  the  causes  of  injustice  and  dis- 
content can  be  devised  and  ready  for  inauguration. 
This  new  social  order  depends,  in  turn,  upon  a  world 
order  of  mutually  helpful,  free  peoples,  a  League  of 
Nations.  If  the  world  is  to  be  made  safe  for  democ- 
racy, this  democratic  plan  must  be  ready  for  the  day 


122      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

when  the  German  Junker  is  beaten  and  peace  is  de- 
clared. 

The  real  issue  of  our  time  is  industrial  democracy  — 
we  must  face  that  fact.  And  those  in  America  and  the 
Entente  nations  who  continue  to  oppose  it  will  do  so 
at  their  peril.  Fortunately,  as  will  be  shown,  that  ele- 
ment of  our  population  which  may  be  designated  as  do- 
mestic Junkers  is  capable  of  being  influenced  by  con- 
temporary currents  of  thought,  is  awakening  to  the  real- 
ization of  social  conditions  deplorable  and  dangerous. 
Prosperity  and  power  had  made  them  blind  and  arro- 
gant. Their  enthusiasm  for  the  war  was,  however, 
genuine;  the  sacrifices  they  are  making  are  changing 
and  softening  them;  but  as  yet  they  can  scarcely  be 
expected,  as  a  class,  to  rejoice  over  the  revelation  —  just 
beginning  to  dawn  upon  their  minds  —  that  victory  for 
the  Allies  spells  the  end  of  privilege.  Their  conception 
of  democracy  remains  archaic,  while  wealth  is  inher- 
ently conservative.  Those  who  possess  it  in  America 
have  as  a  rule  received  an  education  in  terms  of  an 
obsolete  economics,  of  the  thought  of  an  age  gone  by. 
It  is  only  within  the  past  few  years  that  our  colleges 
and  universities  have  begun  to  teach  modern  economics, 
social  science  and  psychology  —  and  this  in  the  face  of 
opposition  from  trustees.  Successful  business  men,  as 
a  rule,  have  had  neither  the  time  nor  the  inclination  to 
read  books  which  they  regard  as  visionary,  as  subver- 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      123 

sive  to  an  order  by  which  they  have  profited.  And  that 
some  Americans  are  fools,  and  have  been  dazzled  in 
Europe  by  the  glamour  of  a  privilege  not  attainable  at 
home,  is  a  deplorable  yet  indubitable  fact.  These  have 
little  sympathy  with  democracy;  they  have  even  been 
heard  to  declare  that  we  have  no  right  to  dictate  to  an- 
other nation,  even  an  enemy  nation,  what  form  of  gov- 
ernment it  shall  assume.  We  have  no  right  to  demand, 
when  peace  comes,  that  the  negotiations  must  be  with 
the  representatives  of  the  German  people.  These  are 
they  who  deplore  the  absence  among  us  of  a  tradition  of 
monarchy,  since  the  American  people  "  should  have 
something  to  look  up  to."  But  this  state  of  mind, 
which  needs  no  comment,  is  comparatively  rare,  and 
represents  an  extreme.  We  are  not  lacking,  however, 
in  the  type  of  conservative  who,  innocent  of  a  knowl- 
edge of  psychology,  insists  that  "  human  nature  cannot 
be  changed,"  and  that  the  "  survival  of  the  fittest  "  is  the 
law  of  life,  yet  these  would  deny  Darwin  if  he  were  a 
contemporary.  They  reject  the  idea  that  society  can 
be  organized  by  intelligence,  and  war  ended  by  eliminat- 
ing its  causes  from  the  social  order.  On  the  contrary 
they  cling  to  the  orthodox  contention  that  war  is  a  neces- 
sary and  salutary  thing,  and  proclaim  that  the  American 
fibre  was  growing  weak  and  flabby  from  luxury  and 
peace,  curiously  ignoring  the  fact  that  their  own  eco- 
nomic class, —  the  small  percentage  of  our  population 


owning  sixty  per  cent,  of  the  wealth  of  the  country,  and 
which  therefore  should  be  most  debilitated  by  luxury, 
was  most  eager  for  war,  and  since  war  has  been  declared 
has  most  amply  proved  its  courage  and  fighting  quality. 
This,  however,  and  other  evidences  of  the  patriotic  sac- 
rifices of  those  of  our  countrymen  who  possess  wealth, 
prove  that  they  are  still  Americans,  and  encourages  the 
hope  and  belief  that  as  Americans  they  ultimately  will 
do  their  share  toward  a  democratic  solution  of  the  prob- 
lem of  society.  Many  of  them  are  capable  of  vision, 
and  are  beginning  to  see  the  light  today. 

In  America  we  succeeded  in  eliminating  hereditary 
power,  in  obtaining  a  large  measure  of  political  liberty, 
only  to  see  the  rise  of  an  economic  power,  and  the  con- 
sequent loss  of  economic  liberty.  The  industrial  devel- 
opment of  the  United  States  was  of  course  a  necessary 
and  desirable  thing,  but  the  economic  doctrine  which 
formed  the  basis  of  American  institutions  proved  to  be 
unsuited  to  industrialism,  and  introduced  unforeseen 
evils  that  were  a  serious  menace  to  the  Eepublic.  An 
individualistic  economic  philosophy  worked  admirably 
while  there  was  ample  land  for  the  pioneer,  equality  of 
opportunity  to  satisfy  the  individual  initiative  of  the 
enterprising.  But  what  is  known  as  industrialism 
brought  in  its  train  fear  and  favour,  privilege  and  pov- 
erty, slums,  disease,  and  municipal  vice,  fostered  a  too 
rapid  immigration,  established  in  America  a  tenant  sys- 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      125 

tern  alien  to  our  traditions.  The  conditions  which  ex- 
isted before  the  advent  of  industrialism  are  admirably 
pictured,  for  instance,  in  the  autobiography  of  Mr. 
Charles  Francis  Adams,  when  he  describes  his  native 
town  of  Quincy  in  the  first  half  of  the  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury. In  those  early  communities,  poverty  was  negli- 
gible, there  was  no  great  contrast  between  rich  and  poor ; 
the  artisan,  the  farmer,  the  well-to-do  merchant  met  on 
terms  of  mutual  self-respect,  as  man  to  man;  economic 
class  consciousness  was  non-existent ;  education  was  so 
widespread  that  European  travellers  wonderingly  com- 
mented on  the  fact  that  we  had  no  "  peasantry  " ;  and 
with  few  exceptions  every  citizen  owned  a  piece  of  land 
and  a  home.  Property,  a  refuge  a  man  may  call  his 
own,  and  on  which  he  may  express  his  individuality,  is 
essential  to  happiness  and  self-respect.  Today,  less 
than  two  thirds  of  our  farmers  own  their  land,  while 
vast  numbers  of  our  working  men  and  women  possess 
nothing  but  the  labour  of  their  hands.  The  designation 
of  labour  as  "  property  "  by  our  courts  only  served  to 
tighten  the  bonds,  by  obstructing  for  a  time  the  move- 
ment to  decrease  the  tedious  and  debilitating  hours  of 
contact  of  the  human  organism  with  the  machine, —  a 
menace  to  the  future  of  the  race,  especially  in  the  case 
of  women  and  children.  If  labour  is  "  property," 
wretches  driven  by  economic  necessity  have  indeed  only 
the  choice  of  a  change  of  masters.  In  addition  to  the 


manual  workers,  an  army  of  clerical  workers  of  both 
sexes  likewise  became  tenants,  arid  dependents  who  knew 
not  the  satisfaction  of  a  real  home. 

Such  conditions  gradually  brought  about  a  pro- 
found discontent,  a  grouping  of  classes.  Among  the 
comparatively  prosperous  there  was  set  up  a  social 
competition  in  luxury  that  was  the  bane  of  large  and 
small  communities.  Skilled  labour  banded  itself  into 
unions,  employers  organized  to  oppose  them,  and  the 
result  was  a  class  conflict  never  contemplated  by  the 
founders  of  the  Republic,  repugnant  to  democracy  — 
which  by  its  very  nature  depends  for  its  existence  on 
the  elimination  of  classes.  In  addition  to  this,  owing 
to  the  unprecedented  immigration  of  ignorant  Euro- 
peans to  supply  the  labour  demand,  we  acquired  a  sinis- 
ter proletariat  of  unskilled  economic  slaves.  Before  the 
war  labour  discovered  its  strength ;  since  the  war  began, 
especially  in  the  allied  nations  with  quasi-democratic 
institutions,  it  is  aware  of  its  power  to  exert  a  leverage 
capable  of  paralyzing  industry  for  a  period  sufficient  to 
destroy  the  chances  of  victory.  The  probability  of  the 
occurrence  of  such  a  calamity  depends  wholly  on  whether 
or  not  the  workman  can  be  convinced  that  it  is  his  war, 
for  he  will  not  exert  himself  to  perpetuate  a  social  order 
in  which  he  has  lost  faith,  even  though  he  now  obtains 
a  considerable  increase  in  wages.  Agreements  entered 
into  with  the  government  by  union  leaders  will  not  hold 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      127 

him  if  at  any  time  he  fails  to  be  satisfied  that  the  present 
world  conflict  will  not  result  in  a  greater  social  justice. 
This  fact  has  been  demonstrated  by  what  is  known  as 
the  "  shop  steward  "  movement  in  England,  where  the 
workers  repudiated  the  leaders'  agreements  and  every- 
where organized  local  strikes.  And  in  America,  the  un- 
skilled workers  are  largely  outside  of  the  unions. 

The  workman  has  a  natural  and  laudable  desire  to 
share  more  fully  in  the  good  things  of  life.  And  it  is 
coming  to  be  recognized  that  material  prosperity,  up 'to 
a  certain  point,  is  the  foundation  of  mental  and  spiritual 
welfare:  clean  and  comfortable  surroundings,  beauty, 
rational  amusements,  opportunity  for  a  rational  satis- 
faction of  the  human  instincts  are  essential  to  content- 
ment and  progress.  The  individual,  of  course,  must  be 
enlightened;  and  local  labour  unions,  recognizing  this, 
are  spending  considerable  sums  all  over  the  country  on 
schools  to  educate  their  members.  If  a  workman  is  a 
profiteer,  he  is  more  to  be  excused  than  the  business 
profiteer,  against  whom  his  anger  is  directed ;  if  he  is  a 
spendthrift,  prodigality  is  a  natural  consequence  of 
rapid  acquisition.  We  have  been  a  nation  of  spend- 
thrifts. 

A  failure  to  grasp  the  psychology  of  the  worker  in- 
volves disastrous  consequences.  A  discussion  as  to 
whether  or  not  his  attitude  is  unpatriotic  and  selfish  is 
futile.  No  more  profound  mistake  could  be  made  than 


128      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

to  attribute  to  any  element  of  the  population  motives 
wholly  base.  Human  nature  is  neither  all  black  nor 
all  white,  yet  is  capable  of  supreme  sacrifices  when  ade- 
quately appealed  to.  What  we  must  get  into  our  minds 
is  the  fact  that  a  social  order  that  insured  a  large  meas- 
ure of  democracy  in  the  early  days  of  the  Republic 
is  inadequate  to  meet  modern  industrial  conditions. 
Higher  wages,  material  prosperity  alone  will  not  suf- 
fice to  satisfy  aspirations  for  a  fuller  self-realization, 
once  the  method  by  which  these  aspirations  can  be 
gained  is  glimpsed.  For  it  cannot  be  too  often  repeated 
that  the  unquenchable  conflicts  are  those  waged  for 
ideas  and  not  dollars.  These  are  tinged  with  religious 
emotion. 

IV 

Mr.  Wilson's  messages  to  the  American  people  and 
to  the  world  have  proclaimed  a  new  international  order, 
a  League  of  Democracies.  And  in  a  recent  letter  to 
New  Jersey  Democrats  we  find  him  warning  his  party, 
or  more  properly  the  nation,  of  the  domestic  social 
changes  necessarily  flowing  from  his  international  pro- 
gram. While  rightly  resolved  to  prosecute  the  war  on 
the  battle  lines  to  the  utmost  limit  of  American  re- 
sources, he  points  out  that  the  true  significance  of  the 
conflict  lies  in  "  revolutionary  change."  "  Economic 
and  social  forces,"  he  says,  "  are  being  released  upon 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      129 

the  world,  whose  effect  no  political  seer  dare  to  con- 
jecture." And  we  "  must  search  our  hearts  through 
and  through  and  make  them  ready  for  the  birth  of  a 
new  day  —  a  day  we  hope  and  believe  of  greater  oppor- 
tunity and  greater  prosperity  for  the  average  mass  of 
struggling  men  and  women."  He  recognizes  that  the 
next  great  step  in  the  development  of  democracy  — 
which  the  war  must  bring  about  —  is  the  emancipation 
of  labour;  to  use  his  own  phrase,  the  redemption  of 
masses  of  men  and  women  from  "  economic  serfdom." 
"  The  old  party  slogans,"  he  declares,  "  will  mean  noth- 
ing to  the  future." 

Judging  from  this  announcement,  the  President  seems 
prepared  to  condemn  boldly  all  the  rotten  timbers  of 
the  social  structure  that  have  outlived  their  usefulness 
• —  a  position  that  hitherto  no  responsible  politician  has 
dared  to  take.  Politicians,  on  the  contrary,  have  re- 
vered the  dead  wood,  have  sought  to  shore  the  old  tim- 
bers for  their  own  purposes.  But  so  far  as  any  party 
is  concerned,  Mr.  Wilson  stands  alone.  Both  of  the 
two  great  parties,  the  Republican  and  the  Democratic, 
in  order  to  make  a  show  of  keeping  abreast  of  the  times, 
have  merely  patched  their  platforms  with  the  new  ideas. 
The  Socialist  Party  in  the  United  States  is  relatively 
small,  is  divided  against  itself,  and  has  given  no  evi- 
dence of  a  leadership  of  broad  sanity  and  vision.  It 
is  fortunate  we  have  been  spared  in  this  country  the 


130      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

formation  of  a  political  labour  party,  because  such  a 
party  would  have  been  composed  of  manual  workers 
alone,  and  hence  would  have  tended  further  to  develop 
economic  class  consciousness,  to  crystallize  class  antag- 
onisms. Today,  however,  neither  the  Republican  nor 
the  Democratic  party  represents  the  great  issue  of  the 
times ;  the  cleavage  between  them  is  wholly  artificial. 
The  formation  of  a  Liberal  Party,  with  a  platform 
avowedly  based  on  modern  social  science,  has  become 
essential.  Such  a  party,  to  be  in  harmony  with  our 
traditions  and  our  creed,  to  arrest  in  our  democracy  the 
process  of  class  stratification  which  threatens  to  destroy 
it,  must  not  draw  its  members  from  the  ranks  of  manual 
labour  alone,  but  from  all  elements  of  our  population. 
It  should  contain  all  the  liberal  professions,  and  clerks 
and  shopkeepers,  as  well  as  manual  workers;  adminis- 
trators, and  even  those  employers  who  have  become  con- 
vinced that  our  present  economic  system  does  not  suffice 
to  meet  the  needs  of  the  day.  In  short,  membership  in 
such  a  party,  as  far  as  possible,  should  not  be  based 
upon  occupation  or  economic  status,  but  on  an  honest 
difference  of  view  from  that  of  the  conservative  oppo- 
sition. This  would  be  a  distinctly  American  solution. 
In  order  to  form  such  a  party  a  campaign  of  education 
will  be  necessary.  For  today  Mr.  Wilson's  strength  is 
derived  from  the  independent  vote  representing  the 
faith  of  the  people  as  a  whole ;  but  the  majority  of  those 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION     131 

who  support  the  President,  while  they  ardently  desire 
the  abolition  in  the  world  of  absolute  monarchy,  of 
militarism  and  commercial  imperialism,  while  they  are 
anxious  that  this  war  shall  expedite  and  not  retard  the 
social  reforms  in  which  they  are  interested,  have  as  yet 
but  a  vague  conception  of  the  social  order  which  these 
reforms  imply. 

It  marks  a  signal  advance  in  democracy  when  liberal 
opinion  in  any  nation  turns  for  guidance  and  support 
to  a  statesman  of  another  nation.  No  clearer  sign  of 
the  times  could  be  desired  than  the  fact  that  our  Amer- 
ican President  has  suddenly  become  the  liberal  leader 
of  the  world.  The  traveller  in  France,  and  especially 
in  Britain,  meets  on  all  sides  striking  evidence  of  this. 
In  these  countries,  until  America's  entrance  into  the 
war,  liberals  had  grown  more  and  more  dissatisfied 
with  the  failure  of  their  governments  to  define  in  demo- 
cratic terms  the  issue  of  the  conflict,  had  resented  the 
secret  inter-allied  compacts,  savouring  of  imperialism 
and  containing  the  germs  of  future  war.  They  are  now 
looking  across  the  Atlantic  for  leadership.  In  France 
M.  Albert  Thomas  declared  that  Woodrow  Wilson  had 
given  voice  to  the  aspirations  of  his  party,  while  a  prom- 
inent Liberal  in  England  announced  in  a  speech  that  it 
had  remained  for  the  American  President  to  express  the 
will  and  purpose  of  the  British  people.  The  new  Brit- 
ish Labour  Party  and  the  Inter- Allied  Labour  and  So- 


132      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

cialist  Conferences  have  adopted  Mr.  Wilson's  program 
and  have  made  use  of  his  striking  phrases.  But  we 
have  between  America  and  Britain  this  difference :  in 
America  the  President  stands  virtually  alone,  without 
a  party  behind  him  representing  his  views ;  in  Britain 
the  general  democratic  will  of  the  nation  is  now  being 
organized,  but  has  obtained  as  yet  no  spokesman  in  the 
government. 

Extraordinary  symptomatic  phenomena  have  oc- 
curred in  Russia  as  well  as  in  Britain.  In  Russia  the 
rebellion  of  an  awakening  people  against  an  age-long 
tyranny  has  almost  at  once  leaped  to  the  issue  of  the 
day,  taken  on  the  complexion  of  a  struggle  for  industrial 
democracy.  Whether  the  Germans  shall  be  able  to  ex- 
ploit the  country,  bring  about  a  reaction  and  restore 
for  a  time  monarchical  institutions  depends  largely  upon 
the  fortunes  of  the  war.  In  Russia  there  is  revolution, 
with  concomitant  chaos ;  but  in  Britain  there  is  evolu- 
tion, an  orderly  attempt  of  a  people  long  accustomed 
to  progress  in  self-government  to  establish  a  new  social 
order,  peacefully  and  scientifically,  and  in  accordance 
with  a  traditional  political  procedure. 

The  recent  development  of  the  British  Labour  Party, 
although  of  deep  significance  to  Americans,  has  taken 
place  almost  without  comment  in  this  country.  It  was 
formally  established  in  1900,  and  was  then  composed 
of  manual  workers  alone.  In  1906,  out  of  50  candi- 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION"      133 

dates  at  the  polls,  39  were  elected  to  Parliament;  in 
1910,  42  were  elected.  The  Parliamentary  Labour 
Party,  so  called,  has  now  been  amalgamated  with  four 
and  a  half  millions  of  Trade  Unionists,  and  with  the 
three  and  a  half  millions  of  members  of  the  Co-operative 
Wholesale  Society  and  the  Co-operative  Union.  Al- 
lowing for  duplication  of  membership,  these  three  or- 
ganizations —  according  to  Mr.  Sidney  Webb  —  prob- 
ably include  two  fifths  of  the  population  of  the  United 
Kingdom.  "  So  great  an  aggregation  of  working  class 
organizations,"  he  says,  "  has  never  come  shoulder  to 
shoulder  in  any  country."  Other  smaller  societies  and 
organizations  are  likewise  embraced,  including  the  So- 
cialists. And  now  that  the  suffrage  has  been  extended, 
provision  is  made  for  the  inclusion  of  women.  The  new 
party  is  organizing  in  from  three  to  four  hundred  con- 
stituencies, and  at  the,  next  general  election  is  not  un- 
likely to  gain  control  of  the  political  balance  of  power. 
With  the  majority  of  Americans,  however,  the  word 
"  labour  "  as  designating  a  party  arouses  suspicion  and 
distrust.  By  nature  and  tradition  we  are  inclined  to 
deplore  and  oppose  any  tendency  toward  the  stratifica- 
tion of  class  antagonisms  —  the  result  of  industrial  dis- 
content —  into  political  groups.  The  British  tradition 
is  likewise  hostile  to  such  a  tendency.  But  in  Britain 
the  industrial  ferment  has  gone  much  further  than  with 
us,  and  such  a  result  was  inevitable.  By  taking  advan- 


134      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

tage  of  the  British  experience,  of  the  closer  ties  now 
being  knit  between  the  two  democracies,  we  may  in 
America  be  spared  a  stage  which  in  Britain  was  neces- 
sary. Indeed,  the  program  of  the  new  British  Labour 
Party  seems  to  point  to  a  distinctly  American  solution, 
one  in  harmony  with  the  steady  growth  of  Anglo-Saxon 
democracy.  For  it  is  now  announced  that  the  word 
"  labour,"  as  applied  to  the  new  party,  does  not  mean 
manual  labour  alone,  but  also  mental  labour.  The  Brit- 
ish unions  have  gradually  developed  and  placed  in 
power  leaders  educated  in  social  science,  who  have  now 
come  into  touch  with  the  intellectual  leaders  of  the 
United  Kingdom,  with  the  sociologists,  economists,  and 
social  scientists.  The  surprising  and  encouraging  re- 
sult of  such  association  is  the  announcement  that  the 
new  Labour  Party  is  today  publicly  thrown  open  to  all 
workers,  both  by  hand  and  by  brain,  with  the  object  of 
securing  for  these  the  full  fruits  of  their  industry.  This 
means  the  inclusion  of  physicians,  professors,  writers, 
architects,  engineers,  and  inventors,  of  lawyers  who  no 
longer  regard  their'  profession  as  a  bulwark  of  the  status 
quo;  of  clerks,  of  administrators  of  the  type  evolved  by 
the  war,  who  indeed  have  gained  their  skill  under  the 
old  order  but  who  now  in  a  social  spirit  are  dedicating 
their  gifts  to  the  common  weal,  organizing  and  direct- 
ing vast  enterprises  for  their  governments.  In  short, 
all  useful  citizens  who  make  worthy  contributions  —  as 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION     135 

distinguished  from  parasites,  profiteers,  and  drones, — 
are  invited  to  be  members ;  there  is  no  class  distinction 
here.  The  fortunes  of  such  a  party  are,  of  course,  de- 
pendent upon  the  military  success  of  the  allied  armies 
and  navies.  But  it  has  defined  the  kind  of  democracy 
the  Allies  are  fighting  for,  and  thus  has  brought  about 
an  unqualified  endorsement  of  the  war  by  those  ele- 
ments of  the  population  which  hitherto  have  felt  the 
issue  to  be  imperialistic  and  vague  rather  than  demo- 
cratic and  clear  cut.  President  Wilson's  international 
program  is  approved  of  and  elaborated. 

The  Report  on  Reconstruction  of  the  new  British 
Labour  Party  is  perhaps  the  most  important  political 
document  presented  to  the  world  since  the  Declaration 
of  Independence.  And  like  the  Declaration,  it  is  writ- 
ten in  the  pure  English  that  alone  gives  the  high  emo- 
tional quality  of  sincerity.  The  phrases  in  which  it 
tersely  describes  its  objects  are  admirable.  "  What  is 
to  be  reconstructed  after  the  war  is  over  is  not  this  or 
that  government  department,  this  or  that  piece  of  social 
machinery,  but  Society  itself."  There  is  to  be  a  sys- 
tematic approach  towards  a  "  healthy  equality  of  ma- 
terial circumstance  for  every  person  born  into  the  world, 
and  not  an  enforced  dominion  over  subject  nations, 
subject  colonies,  subject  classes,  or  a  subject  sex."  In 
industry  as  well  as  in  government  the  social  order  is 
to  be  based  "  on  that  equal  freedom,  that  general  con- 


136      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

sciousness  of  consent,  and  that  widest  participation  in 
power,  both  economic  and  political,  which  is  charac- 
teristic of  democracy."  But  all  this,  it  should  be  noted, 
is  not  to  be  achieved  in  a  year  or  two  of  "  feverish  re- 
construction "  ;  "  each  brick  that  the  Labour  Party  helps 
to  lay  shall  go  to  erect  the  structure  it  intends  and  no 
other." 

In  considering  the  main  features  of  this  program, 
one  must  have  in  mind  whether  these  are  a  logical  pro- 
jection and  continuation  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  democratic 
tradition,  or  whether  they  constitute  an  absolute  break 
with  that  tradition.  The  only  valid  reason  for  the 
adoption  of  such  a  program  in  America  would  be,  of 
course,  the  restoration  of  some  such  equality  of  oppor- 
tunity and  economic  freedom  as  existed  in  our  Republic 
before  we  became  an  industrial  nation.  "  The  first  con- 
dition of  democracy,"- -  to  quote  again  from  the  pro- 
gram, "  is  effective  personal  freedom." 

What  is  called  the  "  Universal  Enforcement  of  the 
National  Minimum  "  contemplates  the  extension  of  laws 
already  on  the  statute  books  in  order  to  prevent  the 
extreme  degradation  of  the  standard  of  life  brought 
about  by  the  old  economic  system  under  industrialism. 
A  living  minimum  wage  is  to  be  established.  The  Brit- 
ish Labour  Party  intends  "  to  secure  to  every  member 
of  the  community,  in  good  times  and  bad  alike  ...  all 
the  requisites  of  healthy  life  and  worthy  citizenship." 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      137 

After  the  war  there  is  to  be  no  cheap  labour  market, 
nor  are  the  millions  of  workers  and  soldiers  to  fall  into 
the  clutches  of  charity;  but  it  shall  be  a  national  obli- 
gation to  provide  each  of  these  with  work  according  to 
his  capacity.  In  order  to  maintain  the  demand  for  la- 
bour at  a  uniform  level,  the  government  is  to  provide 
public  works.  The  population  is  to  be  rehoused  in 
suitable  dwellings,  both  in  rural  districts  and  town 
slums ;  new  and  more  adequate  schools  and  training  col- 
leges are  to  be  inaugurated ;  land  is  to  be  reclaimed  and 
afforested,  and  gradually  brought  under  common  owner- 
ship; railways  and  canals  are  to  be  reorganized  and 
nationalized,  mines  and  electric  power  systems.  One 
of  the  significant  proposals  under  this  head  is  that  which 
demands  the  retention  of  the  centralization  of  the  pur- 
chase of  raw  materials  brought  about  by  the  war. 

In  order  to  accomplish  these  objects  there  must  be 
a  "  Revolution  in  National  Finance."  The  present 
method  of  raising  funds  is  denounced ;  and  it  is  pointed 
out  that  only  one  quarter  of  the  colossal  expenditure 
made  necessary  by  the  war  has  been  raised  by  taxation, 
and  that  the  three  quarters  borrowed  at  onerous  rates  is 
sure  to  be  a  burden  on  the  nation's  future.  The  cap- 
ital needed,  when  peace  comes,  to  ensure  a  happy  and 
contented  democracy  must  be  procured  without  en- 
croaching on  the  minimum  standard  of  life,  and  with- 
out hampering  production.  Indirect  taxation  must 


therefore  be  concentrated  on  those  luxuries  of  which  it 
is  desirable  that  the  consumption  be  discouraged.  The 
steadily  rising  unearned  increment  of  urban  and  min- 
eral land  ought,  by  appropriate  direct  taxation,  to  be 
brought  into  the  public  exchequer ;  "  the  definite  teach- 
ings of  economic  science  are  no  longer  to  be  disre- 
garded." Hence  incomes  are  to  be  taxed  above  the 
necessary  cost  of  family  maintenance,  private  fortunes 
during  life  and  at  death;  while  a  special  capital  levy 
must  be  made  to  pay  off  a  substantial  portion  of  the 
national  debt. 

"  The  Democratic  Control  of  Industry "  contem- 
plates the  progressive  elimination  of  the  private  cap- 
italist and  the  setting  free  of  all  who  work  by  hand  and 
brain  for  the  welfare  of  all. 

The  Surplus  Wealth  is  to  be  expended  for  the  Com- 
mon Good.  That  which  Carlyle  designates  as  the  "  in- 
ward spiritual,"  in  contrast  to  the  "  outward  econom- 
ical," is  also  to  be  provided  for.  "  Society,"  says  the 
document,  "  like  the  individual,  does  not  live  by  bread 
alone,  does  not  exist  only  for  perpetual  wealth  produc- 
tion." First  of  all,  there  is  to  be  education  according 
to  the  highest  modern  standard ;  and  along  with  educa- 
tion, the  protection  and  advancement  of  the  public 
health,  mens  sana  in  corpore  sano.  While  large  sums 
must  be  set  aside,  not  only  for  original  research  in 
every  branch  of  knowledge,  but  for  the  promotion  of 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTKIBUTION     139 

music,  literature,  and  fine  art,  upon  which  "  any  real 
development  of  civilization  fundamentally  depends." 

In  regard  to  the  British  Empire,  the  Labour  Party 
urges  self-government  for  any  people,  whatever  its  col- 
our, proving  itself  capable,  and  the  right  of  that  peo- 
ple to  the  proceeds  of  its  own  toil  upon  the  resources 
of  its  territory.  An  unequivocal  stand  is  taken  for  the 
establishment,  as  a  part  of  the  treaty  of  peace,  of  a 
Universal  Society  of  Nations ;  and  recognizing  that  the 
future  progress  of  democracy  depends  upon  co-opera- 
tion and  fellowship  between  liberals  of  all  countries, 
the  maintenance  of  intimate  relationships  is  advocated 
with  liberals  oversea. 

Finally,  a  scientific  investigation  of  each  succeed- 
ing problem  in  government  is  insisted  upon,  and  a  much 
more  rapid  dissemination  among  the  people  of  the  sci- 
ence that  exists.  "  A  plutocratic  party  may  choose  to 
ignore  science,  but  no  labour  party  can  hope  to  main- 
tain its  position  unless  its  proposals  are,  in  fact,  the 
outcome  of  the  best  political  science  of  its  time." 


There  are,  it  will  be  seen,  some  elements  in  the  pro- 
gram of  the  new  British  Labour  Party  apparently  at 
variance  with  American  and  English  institutions,  tra- 
ditions, and  ideas.  We  are  left  in  doubt,  for  instance, 


140      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

in  regard  to  its  attitude  toward  private  property.  The 
instinct  for  property  is  probably  innate  in  humanity, 
and  American  conservatism  in  this  regard  is,  accord- 
ing to  certain  modern  economists,  undoubtedly  sound. 
A  man  should  be  permitted  to  acquire  at  least  as  much 
property  as  is  required  for  the  expression  of  his  per- 
sonality; such  a  wise  limitation,  also,  would  abolish 
the  evil  known  as  absentee  ownership.  Again,  there 
will  arise  in  many  minds  the  question  whether  the  funds 
for  the  plan  of  National  finance  outlined  in  the  pro- 
gram may  be  obtained  without  seriously  deranging  the 
economic  system  of  the  nation  and  of  the  world.  The 
older  school  denounces  the  program  as  Utopian.  On 
the  other  hand,  economists  of  the  modern  school  who 
have  been  consulted  have  declared  it  practical.  It  is 
certain  that  before  the  war  began  it  would  not  have 
been  thought  possible  to  raise  the  billions  which  in  four 
years  have  been  expended  on  sheer  destruction;  and 
one  of  our  saddest  reflections  today  must  be  of  regret 
that  a  small  portion  of  these  billions  which  have  gone 
to  waste  could  not  have  been  expended  for  the  very  pur- 
poses outlined  —  education,  public  health,  the  advance- 
ment of  science  and  art,  public  buildings,  roads  and 
parks,  and  the  proper  housing  of  populations!  It  is 
also  dawning  upon  us,  as  a  result  of  new  practices 
brought  about  by  the  war,  that  our  organization  of  in- 
dustry was  happy-go-lucky,  inefficient  and  wasteful,  and 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      141 

that  a  more  scientific  and  economical  organization  is 
imperative.  Under  such  a  new  system  it  may  well  be, 
as  modern  economists  claim,  that  we  shall  have  an 
ample  surplus  for  the  Common  Good. 

The  chief  objection  to  a  National  or  Democratic  Con- 
trol of  Industry  has  been  that  it  would  tend  to  create 
vast  political  machines  and  thus  give  the  politicians 
in  office  a  nefarious  power.  It  is  not  intended  here  to 
attempt  a  refutation  of  this  contention.  The  remedy 
lies  in  a  changed  attitude  of  the  employe  and  the  citi- 
zen toward  government,  and  the  fact  that  such  an  atti- 
tude is  now  developing  is  not  subject  to  absolute  proof. 
It  may  be  said,  however,  that  no  greater  menace  to 
democracy  could  have  arisen  than  the  one  we  seem 
barely  to  have  escaped  —  the  control  of  politics  and 
government  by  the  capitalistic  interests  of  the  nation. 
What  seems  very  clear  is  that  an  evolutionary  drift  to- 
ward the  national  control  of  industry  has  for  many 
years  been  going  on,  and  that  the  war  has  tremendously 
speeded  up  the  tendency.  Government  has  stepped  in 
to  protect  the  consumer  of  necessities  from  the  profiteer, 
and  is  beginning  to  set  a  limit  upon  profits;  has  regu- 
lated exports  and  imports;  established  a  national  ship- 
ping corporation  and  merchant  marine,  and  entered  into 
other  industries ;  it  has  taken  over  the  railroads  at  least 
for  the  duration  of  the  war,  and  may  take  over  coal 
mines,  and  metal  resources,  as  well  as  the  forests  and 


142      THE  AMERICAN  CONTKIBUTION 

water  power;   it  now  contemplates  the  regulation  of 
wages. 

The  exigency  caused  by  the  war,  moreover,  has  trans- 
formed the  former  practice  of  international  intercourse. 
Co-operation  has  replaced  competition.  We  are  reor- 
ganizing and  regulating  our  industries,  our  business, 
making  sacrifices  and  preparing  to  make  more  sacri- 
fices in  order  to  meet  the  needs  of  our  Allies,  now  that 
they  are  sore  beset.  For  a  considerable  period  after 
the  war  is  ended,  they  will  require  our  aid.  We  shall 
be  better  off  than  any  other  of  the  belligerent  nations, 
and  we  shall  therefore  be  called  upon  to  practice,  during 
the  years  of  reconstruction,  a  continuation  of  the  same 
policy  of  helpfulness.  Indeed,  for  the  nations  of  the 
world  to  spring,  commercially  speaking,  at  one  an- 
other's throats  would  be  suicidal  even  if  it  were  possible. 
Mr.  Sidney  Webb  has  thrown  a  flood  of  light  upon  the 
conditions  likely  to  prevail.  For  example,  speculative 
export  trade  is  being  replaced  by  collective  importing, 
bringing  business  more  directly  under  the  control  of  the 
consumer.  This  has  been  done  by  co-operative  socie- 
ties, by  municipalities  and  states,  in  Switzerland, 
France,  the  United  Kingdom,  and  in  Germany.  The 
Co-operative  Wholesale  Society  of  Great  Britain,  act- 
ing on  behalf  of  three  and  a  half  million  families,  buys 
two  and  a  half  million  dollars  of  purchases  annually. 
And  the  Entente  nations,  in  order  to  avoid  competitive 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION     143 

bidding,  are  buying  collectively  from  us,  not  only  muni- 
tions of  war,  but  other  supplies,  while  the  British  Gov- 
ernment has  made  itself  the  sole  importer  of  such  neces- 
sities as  wheat,  sugar,  tea,  refrigerated  meat,  wool,  and 
various  metals.  The  French  and  Italian  governments, 
and  also  certain  neutral  states,  have  done  likewise.  A 
purchasing  commission  for  all  the  Allies  and  America 
is  now  proposed. 

After  the  war,  as  an  inevitable  result,  for  one  thing, 
of  transforming  some  thirty  million  citizens  into  sol- 
diers, of  engaging  a  like  number  of  men  and  women  at 
enhanced  wages  on  the  manufacture  of  the  requisites  of 
war,  Mr.  Webb  predicts  a  world  shortage  not  only  in 
wheat  and  foodstuffs  but  in  nearly  all  important  raw 
materials.  These  will  be  required  for  the  resumption 
of  manufacture.  In  brief,  international  co-operation 
will  be  the  only  means  of  salvation.  The  policy  of  in- 
ternational trade  implied  by  world  shortage  is  not 
founded  upon  a  law  of  "  supply  and  demand."  The 
necessities  cannot  be  permitted  to  go  to  those  who  can 
afford  to  pay  the  highest  prices,  but  to  those  who  need 
them  most.  For  the  "  free  play  of  economic  forces  " 
would  mean  famine  on  a  large  scale,  because  the  richer 
nations  and  the  richer  classes  within  the  nations  might 
be  fully  supplied;  but  to  the  detriment  and  ruin  of 
the  world  the  poorer  nations  and  the  poorer  classes  would 
be  starved.  Therefore  governments  are  already  begin- 


144      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

ning  to  give  consideration  to  a  new  organization  of  in- 
ternational trade  for  at  least  three  years  after  the  war. 
Now  if  this  organization  produce,  as  it  may  produce, 
a  more  desirable  civilization  and  a  happier  world- 
order,  we  are  not  likely  entirely  to  go  back  —  especially 
in  regard  to  commodities  which  are  necessities  —  to  a 
competitive  system.  The  principle  of  "  priority  of 
need  "  will  supersede  the  law  of  "  supply  and  demand." 
And  the  organizations  built  up  during  the  war,  if  they 
prove  efficient,  will  not  be  abolished.  Hours  of  labour 
and  wages  in  the  co-operative  League  of  Nations  will 
gradually  be  equalized,  and  tariffs  will  become  things  of 
the  past.  "  The  axiom  will  be  established,"  says  Mr. 
Webb,  "  that  the  resources  of  every  country  must  be 
held  for  the  benefit  not  only  of  its  own  people  but  of  the 
world.  .  .  .  The  world  shortage  will,  for  years  to  come, 
make  import  duties  look  both  oppressive  and  ridicu- 
lous." 

So  much  may  be  said  for  the  principle  of  Democratic 
Control.  In  spite  of  all  theoretical  opposition,  circum- 
stances and  evolution  apparently  point  to  its  establish- 
ment. A  system  that  puts  a  premium  on  commercial 
greed  seems  no  longer  possible. 

The  above  comments,  based  on  the  drift  of  political 
practice  during  the  past  decade  and  a  half,  may  be 
taken  for  what  they  are  worth.  Predictions  are  pre- 
carious. The  average  American  will  be  inclined  to 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      145 

regard  the  program  of  the  new  British  Labour  Party 
as  the  embodiment  of  what  he  vaguely  calls  Socialism, 
and  to  him  the  very  word  is  repugnant.  Although  he 
may  never  have  heard  of  Marx,  it  is  the  Marxian  con- 
ception that  comes  to  his  mind,  and  this  implies  coer- 
cion, a  government  that  constantly  interferes  with  his 
personal  liberty,  that  compels  him  to  tasks  for  which 
he  has  no  relish.  But  your  American,  and  your  Eng- 
lishman, for  that  matter,  is  inherently  an  individualist : 
he  wants  as  little  government  as  is  compatible  with  any 
government  at  all.  And  the  descendants  of  the  con- 
tinental Europeans  who  flock  to  our  shores  are  Anglo- 
Saxonized,  also  become  by  environment  and  education 
individualists.  The  great  importance  of  preserving 
this  individualism,  this  spirit  in  our  citizens  of  self- 
reliance,  this  suspicion  against  too  much  interference 
with  personal  liberty,  must  at  once  be  admitted.  And 
any  scheme  for  a  social  order  that  tends  to  eliminate 
and  destroy  it  should  by  Americans  be  summarily  re- 
jected. 

The  question  of  supreme  interest  to  us,  therefore,  is 
whether  the  social  order  implied  in  the  British  pro- 
gram is  mainly  in  the  nature  of  a  development  of,  or  a 
break  with,  the  Anglo-Saxon  democratic  tradition.  The 
program  is  derived  from  an  English  source.  It  is  based 
on  what  is  known  as  modern  social  science,  which  has 
as  its  ultimate  sanction  the  nature  of  the  human  mind 


146      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

as  revealed  by  psychology.  A  consideration  of  the 
principles  underlying  this  proposed  social  order  may 
prove  that  it  is  essentially  —  if  perhaps  paradoxically 
—  individualistic,  a  logical  evolution  of  institutions 
which  had  their  origin  in  the  Magna  Charta.  Our 
Declaration  of  Independence  proclaimed  that  every  citi- 
zen had  the  right  to  "  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of 
happiness,"  which  means  the  opportunity  to  achieve 
the  greatest  self-development  and  self-realization.  The 
theory  is  that  each  citizen  shall  find  his  place,  according 
to  his  gifts  and  abilities,  and  be  satisfied  therewith.  We 
may  discover  that  this  is  precisely  what  social  science, 
in  an  industrial  age,  and  by  spiritualizing  human  effort, 
aims  to  achieve.  We  may  find  that  the  appearance  of 
such  a  program  as  that  of  the  British  Labour  Party, 
supported  as  it  is  by  an  imposing  proportion  of  the 
population  of  the  United  Kingdom,  marks  a  further 
step,  not  only  in  the  advance  of  social  science  and  de- 
mocracy, but  also  of  Christianity. 

I  mention  Christianity,  not  for  controversial  or 
apologetic  reasons,  but  because  it  has  been  the  leaven 
of  our  western  civilization  ever  since  the  fall  of  the 
Roman  Empire.  Its  constant  influence  has  been  to 
soften  and  spiritualize  individual  and  national  relation- 
ships. The  bitter  controversies,  wars,  and  persecutions 
which  have  raged  in  its  name  are  utterly  alien  to  its 
being.  And  that  the  present  war  is  now  being  fought 


THE  AMERICAN"  CONTRIBUTION      147 

by  the  Allies  in  the  hope  of  putting  an  end  to  war,  and 
is  thus  iu  the  true  spirit  of  Christianity,  marks  an  in- 
comparable advance. 

Almost  up  to  the  present  day,  both  in  our  concep- 
tion and  practice  of  Christianity,  we  have  largely  neg- 
lected its  most  important  elements.  Christian  ortho^ 
doxy,  as  Auguste  Sabatier  points  out,  is  largely  derived 
from  the  older  supernatural  religions.  The  preserva- 
tive shell  of  dogma  and  superstition  has  been  cracking, 
and  is  now  ready  to  burst,  and  the  social  teaching  of 
Jesus  would  seem  to  be  the  kernel  from  which  has 
sprung  modern  democracy,  modern  science,  and  modern 
religion  —  a  trinity  and  unity. 

For  nearly  two  thousand  years  orthodoxy  has  in- 
sisted that  the  social  principles  of  Christianity  are  im- 
practical. And  indeed,  until  the  present  day,  they  have 
been  so.  Physical  science,  by  enormously  accelerating 
the  means  of  transportation  and  communication,  has  so 
contracted  the  world  as  to  bring  into  communion  peo- 
ples and  races  hitherto  far  apart ;  has  made  possible  an 
intelligent  organization  of  industry  which,  for  the  first 
time  in  history,  can  create  a  surplus  ample  to  maintain 
in  comfort  the  world's  population.  But  this  demands 
the  will  to  co-operation,  which  is  a  Christian  principle 
—  a  recognition  of  the  brotherhood  of  man.  Further- 
more, physical  science  has  increased  the  need  for  world 
peace  and  international  co-operation  because  the  terri- 


148      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

tories  of  all  nations  are  now  subject  to  swift  and  terrible 
invasion  by  modern  instruments  of  destruction,  while 
the  future  submarine  may  sweep  commerce  from  the 
seas. 

Again,  orthodoxy  declares  that  human  nature  is  in- 
herently "  bad,"  while  true  Christianity,  endorsed  by 
psychology,  proclaims  it  inherently  "  good,"  which 
means  that,  properly  guided,  properly  educated,  it  is 
creative  and  contributive  rather  than  destructive.  No 
more  striking  proof  of  this  fact  can  be  cited  than  the 
modern  experiment  in  prison  reform  in  which  hardened 
convicts,  when  "  given  a  chance,"  frequently  become 
useful  citizens.  Unjust  and  unintelligent  social  condi- 
tions are  the  chief  factors  in  making  criminals. 

Our  most  modern  system  of  education,  of  which  Pro- 
fessor John  Dewey  is  the  chief  protagonist,  is  based 
upon  the  assertions  of  psychology  that  human  nature  is 
essentially  "  good  " —  creative.  Every  normal  child  is 
supposed  to  have  a  special  "  distinction  "  or  gift,  which 
it  is  the  task  of  the  educator  to  discover.  This  distinc- 
tion found,  the  child  achieves  happiness  in  creation  and 
contribution.  Self-realization  demands  knowledge  and 
training:  the  doing  of  right  is  not  a  negative  but  a 
positive  act;  it  is  not  without  significance  that  the 
Greek  word  for  sin  is  literally  "  missing  the  mark." 
Christianity  emphasizes  above  all  else  the  worth  of  the 
individual,  yet  recognizes  that  the  individual  can  de- 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      149 

velop  only  in  society.  And  if  the  individual  be  of 
great  worth,  this  worth  must  be  by  society  developed 
to  its  utmost.  Universal  suffrage  is  a  logical  corol- 
lary. 

Universal  suffrage,  however,  implies  individual  judg- 
ment, which  means  that  the  orthodox  principle  of  ex- 
ternal authority  is  out  of  place  both  in  Christianity 
and  democracy.  The  Christian  theory  is  that  none  shall 
intervene  between  a  man's  Maker  and  himself;  de- 
mocracy presupposes  that  no  citizen  shall  accept  his  be- 
liefs and  convictions  from  others,  but  shall  make  up 
his  own  mind  and  act  accordingly.  Openmindedness 
is  the  first  requisite  of  science  and  democracy. 

What  has  been  deemed,  however,  in  Christianity  the 
most  unrealizable  ideal  is  that  which  may  be  called 
pacifism  —  to  resist  not  evil,  to  turn  the  other  cheek, 
to  agree  with  your  adversary  while  you  are  in  the  way 
with  him.  "  I  come  not,"  said  Jesus,  in  one  of  those 
paradoxical  statements  hitherto  so  difficult  to  under- 
stand, "  I  come  not  to  bring  peace,  but  a  sword."  It 
is  indeed  what  we  are  fighting  for  —  peace.  But  we 
believe  today,  more  strongly  than  ever  before,  as  de- 
mocracy advances,  as  peoples  tend  to  gain  more  and 
more  control  over  their  governments,  that  even  this  may 
not  be  an  unrealizable  ideal.  Democracies,  intent  on 
self-realization  and  self-development,  do  not  desire  war. 

The  problem  of  social  science,  then,  appears  to  be  to 


150      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

organize  human  society  on  the  principles  and  ideals  of 
Christianity.  But  in  view  of  the  fact  that  the  trend 
of  evolution  is  towards  the  elimination  of  commercial 
competition,  the  question  which  must  seriously  concern 
us  today  is  —  What  in  the  future  shall  be  the  spur 
of  individual  initiative  ?  Orthodoxy  and  even  demo- 
cratic practice  have  hitherto  taken  it  for  granted  —  in 
spite  of  the  examples  of  highly  socialized  men,  bene- 
factors of  society  —  that  the  average  citizen  will  bestir 
himself  only  for  material  gain.  And  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  competition  of  some  sort  is  necessary  for 
self-realization,  that  human  nature  demands  a  prize. 
There  can  be  no  self-sacrifice  without  a  corresponding 
self-satisfaction.  The  answer  is  that  in  the  theory  of 
democracy,  as  well  as  in  that  of  Christianity,  individual- 
ism and  co-operation  are  paradoxically  blended.  For 
competition,  Christianity  substitutes  emulation.  And 
with  democracy,  it  declares  that  mankind  itself  can 
gradually  be  raised  towards  the  level  of  the  choice  in- 
dividual who  does  not  labour  for  gain,  but  in  behalf  of 
society.  For  the  process  of  democracy  is  not  degrading, 
but  lifting.  Like  Christianity,  democracy  demands 
faith,  and  has  as  its  inspiring  interpretation  of  civiliza- 
tion evolution  towards  a  spiritual  goal.  Yet  the  kind 
of  faith  required  is  no  longer  a  blind  faith,  but  one 
founded  on  sane  and  carefully  evolved  theories.  De- 
mocracy has  become  a  scientific  experiment. 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      151 

In  this  connection,  as  one  notably  inspired  by  emu- 
lation, by  the  joy  of  creative  work  and  service,  the 
medical  profession  comes  first  to  mind.  The  finer 
element  in  this  profession  is  constantly  increasing  in 
numbers,  growing  more  and  more  influential,  making 
life  less  easy  for  the  quack,  the  vendor  of  nostrums, 
the  commercial  proprietor  of  the  bogus  medical  college. 
The  doctor  who  uses  his  talents  for  gain  is  frowned 
upon  by  those  of  his  fellow  practitioners  whose  opin- 
ion really  counts.  Respected  physicians  in  our  cities 
give  much  of  their  time  to  teaching,  animating  students 
with  their  own  spirit ;  and  labour  long  hours,  for  no 
material  return,  in  the  clinics  of  the  poor.  And  how 
often,  in  reading  our  newspapers,  do  we  learn  that  some 
medical  scientist,  by  patient  work,  and  often  at  the 
risk  of  life  and  health,  has  triumphed  over  a  scourge 
which  has  played  havoc  with  humanity  throughout  the 
ages!  Typhoid  has  been  conquered,  and  infant  paral- 
ysis ;  gangrene  and  tetanus,  which  have  taken  such  toll 
of  the  wounded  in  Flanders  and  France;  yellow  fever 
has  been  stamped  out  in  the  tropics ;  hideous  lesions  are 
now  healed  by  a  system  of  drainage.  The  very  list  of 
these  achievements  is  bewildering,  and  latterly  we  are 
given  hope  of  the  prolongation  of  life  itself.  Here  in 
truth  are  Christian  deeds  multiplied  by  science,  made 
possible  by  a  growing  knowledge  of  and  mastery  over 
Nature. 


152      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

Such  men  by  virtue  of  their  high  mission  are  above 
the  vicious  social  and  commercial  competition  poison- 
ing the  lives  of  so  many  of  their  fellow  citizens.  In 
our  democracy  they  have  found  their  work,  and  the 
work  is  its  own  reward.  They  give  striking  testimony 
to  the  theory  that  absorption  in  a  creative  or  contribu- 
tive  task  is  the  only  source  of  self-realization.  And  he 
has  little  faith  in  mankind  who  shall  declare  that  the 
medical  profession  is  the  only  group  capable  of  being 
socialized,  or,  rather,  of  socializing  themselves  —  for 
such  is  the  true  process  of  democracy.  Public  opinion 
should  be  the  leaven.  What  is  possible  for  the  doctor 
is  also  possible  for  the  lawyer,  for  the  teacher.  In  a 
democracy,  teaching  should  be  the  most  honoured  of 
the  professions,  and  indeed  once  was, —  before  the 
advent  of  industrialism,  when  it  gradually  fell  into 
neglect, —  occasionally  into  deplorable  submission  to 
the  possessors  of  wealth.  Yet  a  wage  disgracefully 
low,  hardship,  and  even  poverty  have  not  hindered  men 
of  ability  from  entering  it  in  increasing  numbers,  re- 
nouncing ease  and  luxuries.  The  worth  of  the  contri- 
butions of  our  professors  to  civilization  has  been  in- 
estimable; and  fortunately  signs  are  not  lacking  that 
we  are  coming  to  an  appreciation  of  the  value  of  the 
expert  in  government,  who  is  replacing  the  panderer 
and  the  politician.  A  new  solidarity  of  teaching  pro- 
fessional opinion,  together  with  a  growing  realization 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      153 

by  our  public  of  the  primary  importance  of  the  calling, 
is  tending  to  emancipate  it,  to  establish  it  in  its  rightful 
place. 

Nor  are  our  engineers  without  their  ideal.  A  Goe- 
thals  did  not  cut  an  isthmus  in  two  for  gain. 

Industrialism,  with  its  concomitant  "  corporation " 
practice,  has  undoubtedly  been  detrimental  to  the  legal 
profession,  since  it  has  resulted  in  large  fees;  in  the 
accumulation  of  vast  fortunes,  frequently  by  methods 
ethically  questionable.  Grave  social  injustices  have 
been  done,  though  often  in  good  faith,  since  the  lawyer, 
by  training  and  experience,  has  hitherto  been  least 
open  to  the  teachings  of  the  new  social  science,  has 
been  an  honest  advocate  of  the  system  of  laissez  faire. 
But  to  say  that  the  American  legal  profession  is  with- 
out ideals  and  lacking  in  the  emulative  spirit  would 
be  to  do  it  a  grave  injustice.  The  increasing  influence 
of  national  and  state  bar  associations  evidences  a  pro- 
fessional opinion  discouraging  to  the  unscrupulous; 
while  a  new  evolutionary  and  more  humanitarian  con- 
ception of  law  is  now  beginning  to  be  taught,  and  young 
men  are  entering  the  ranks  imbued  with  this.  Legal 
clinics,  like  medical  clinics,  are  established  for  the 
benefit  of  those  who  cannot  afford  to  pay  fees,  for  the 
protection  of  the  duped  from  the  predatory  quack.  And 
it  must  be  said  of  this  profession,  which  hitherto  has 
held  a  foremost  place  in  America,  that  its  leaders  have 


15-i      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION" 

never  hesitated  to  respond  to  a  public  call,  to  sacrifice 
their  practices  to  serve  the  nation.  Their  highest  am- 
bition has  even  been  to  attain  the  Supreme  Court,  where 
the  salary  is  a  mere  pittance  compared  to  what  they 
may  earn  as  private  citizens. 

Thus  we  may  review  all  the  groups  in  the  nation, 
but  the  most  significant  transformation  of  all  is  taking 
place  within  the  business  group, —  where  indeed  it 
might  be  least  expected.  Even  before  the  war  there 
were  many  evidences  that  the  emulative  spirit  in  busi- 
ness had  begun  to  modify  the  merely  competitive,  and 
we  had  the  spectacle  of  large  employers  of  labour  awak- 
ening to  the  evils  of  industrialism,  and  themselves  at- 
tempting to  inaugurate  reforms.  As  in  the  case  of 
labour,  it  would  be  obviously  unfair  to  claim  that  the 
employer  element  was  actuated  by  motives  of  self-in- 
terest alone;  nor  were  their  concessions  due  only  to 
fear.  Instances  could  be  cited,  if  there  were  space,  of 
voluntary  shortening  of  hours  of  labour,  of  raising  of 
wages,  when  no  coercion  was  exerted  either  by  the  labour 
unions  or  the  state ;  and  —  perhaps  to  their  surprise  — 
employers  discovered  that  such  acts  were  not  only  hu- 
mane but  profitable !  Among  these  employers,  in  fact, 
may  be  observed  individuals  in  various  stages  of  en- 
lightenment, from  the  few  who  have  educated  themselves 
in  social  science,  who  are  convinced  that  the  time  has 
come  when  it  is  not  only  practicable  but  right,  who 


THE  AMERICAN"  CONTRIBUTION     155 

realize  that  a  new  era  has  dawned;  to  others  who  still 
believe  in  the  old  system,  who  are  trying  to  bolster  it  up 
by  granting  concessions,  by  establishing  committees  of 
conference,  by  giving  a  voice  and  often  a  financial  in- 
terest, but  not  a  vote,  in  the  conduct  of  the  corporation 
concerned.  These  are  the  counterpart,  in  industry,  of 
sovereigns  whose  sway  has  been  absolute,  whose  inten- 
tions are  good,  but  who  hesitate,  often  from  conviction, 
to  grant  constitutions.  Yet  even  these  are  responding 
in  some  degree  to  social  currents,  though  the  aggressive 
struggles  of  labour  may  have  influenced  them,  and  par- 
tially opened  their  eyes.  They  are  far  better  than 
their  associates  who  still  seek  to  control  the  supplies  of 
food  and  other  necessities,  whose  efficiency  is  still  solely 
directed,  not  toward  a  social  end,  but  toward  the  amass- 
ing of  large  fortunes,  and  is  therefore  wasted  so  far 
as  society  is  concerned.  They  do  not  perceive  that  by 
seeking  to  control  prices  they  merely  hasten  the  tend- 
ency of  government  control,  for  it  is  better  to  have 
government  regulation  for  the  benefit  of  the  many  than 
proprietary  control,  however  efficient,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  few. 

That  a  significant  change  of  heart  and  mind  has  be- 
gun to  take  place  amongst  capitalists,  that  the  nucleus 
of  a  "  public  opinion  "  has  been  formed  within  an  ele- 
ment which,  by  the  use  and  wont  of  business  and  hab- 
its of  thought  might  be  regarded  as  least  subject  to  the 


156      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

influence  of  social  ideas,  is  a  most  hopeful  augury. 
This  nascent  opinion  has  begun  to  operate  by  shaming 
unscrupulous  and  recalcitrant  employers  into  better 
practices.  It  would  indeed  fare  ill  with  democracy  if, 
in  such  an  era,  men  of  large  business  proved  to  be  lack- 
ing in  democratic  initiative,  wholly  unreceptive  and 
hostile  to  the  gradual  introduction  of  democracy  into 
industry,  which  means  the  perpetuation  of  the  Ameri- 
can Idea.  Fortunately,  with  us,  this  capitalistic  ele- 
ment is  of  comparatively  recent  growth,  the  majority 
of  its  members  are  essentially  Americans;  they  have 
risen  from  small  beginnings,  and  are  responsive  to  a 
democratic  appeal  —  if  that  appeal  be  properly  pre- 
sented. And,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  for  many  years  a 
leaven  had  been  at  work  among  them ;  the  truth  has  been 
brought  home  to  them  that  the  mere  acquisition  of 
wealth  brings  neither  happiness  nor  self-realization; 
they  have  lavished  their  money  on  hospitals  and  uni- 
versities, clinics,  foundations  for  scientific  research,  and 
other  gifts  of  inestimable  benefit  to  the  nation  and  man- 
kind. Although  the  munificence  was  on  a  Medicean 
scale,  this  private  charity  was  in  accord  with  the  older 
conception  of  democracy,  and  paved  the  way  for  a 
new  order. 

The  patriotic  and  humanitarian  motive  aroused  by 
the  war  greatly  accelerated  the  socializing  transforma- 
tion of  the  business  man  and  the  capitalist.  We  have, 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      157 

indeed,  our  profiteers  seeking  short  cuts  to  luxury  and 
wealth ;  but  those  happily  most  representative  of  Amer- 
ican affairs,  including  the  creative  administrators,  has- 
tened to  Washington  with  a  willingness  to  accept  any 
position  in  which  they  might  be  useful,  and  in  numer- 
ous instances  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  government 
the  manufacturing  establishments  which,  by  industry 
and  ability,  they  themselves  had  built  up.  That  in 
thus  surrendering  the  properties  for  which  they  were 
largely  responsible  they  hoped  at  the  conclusion  of 
peace  to  see  restored  the  status  quo  ante  should  not  be 
held  against  them.  Some  are  now  beginning  to  sur- 
mise that  a  complete  restoration  is  impossible;  and  as 
a  result  of  their  socializing  experience,  are  even  won- 
dering whether  it  is  desirable.  These  are  beginning  to 
perceive  that  the  national  and  international  organiza- 
tions in  the  course  of  construction  to  meet  the  demands 
of  the  world  conflict  must  form  the  model  for  a  future 
social  structure ;  that  the  unprecedented  pressure  caused 
by  the  cataclysm  is  compelling  a  recrystallization  of 
society  in  which  there  must  be  fewer  misfits,  in  which 
many  more  individuals  than  formerly  shall  find  public 
or  semi-public  tasks  in  accordance  with  their  gifts  and 
abilities. 

It  may  be  argued  that  war  compels  socialization,  that 
after  the  war  the  world  will  perforce  return  to  material- 
istic individualism.  But  this  calamity,  terrible  above 


158      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

all  others,  has  warned  us  of  the  imperative  need  of  an 
order  that  shall  be  socializing,  if  we  are  not  to  witness 
the  destruction  of  our  civilization  itself.  Confidence 
that  such  an  order,  thanks  to  the  advancement  of  sci- 
ence, is  now  within  our  grasp  should  not  be  difficult  for 
Americans,  once  they  have  rightly  conceived  it.  We, 
who  have  always  pinned  our  faith  to  ideas,  who  entered 
the  conflict  for  an  Idea,  must  be  the  last  to  shirk  the 
task,  however  Herculean,  of  world  reconstruction  along 
the  lines  of  our  own  professed  faith.  We  cannot  be 
renegades  to  Democracy. 

Above  all  things,  then,  it  is  essential  for  us  as  a 
people  not  to  abandon  our  faith  in  man,  our  belief  that 
not  only  the  exceptional  individual  but  the  majority 
of  mankind  can  be  socialized.  What  is  true  of  our 
physicians,  our  scientists  and  professional  men,  our 
manual  workers,  is  also  true  of  our  capitalists  and 
business  men.  In  a  more  just  and  intelligent  organ- 
ization of  society  these  will  be  found  willing  to  admin- 
ister and  improve  for  the  common  weal  the  national 
resources  which  formerly  they  exploited  for  the  bene- 
fit of  themselves  and  their  associates.  The  social  re- 
sponse, granted  the  conditions,  is  innate  in  humanity, 
and  individual  initiative  can  best  be  satisfied  in  social 
realization. 


THE  AMERICAN"  CONTRIBUTION     159 


VI 

Universal  education  is  the  cornerstone  of  democracy. 
And  the  recognition  of  this  fact  may  be  called  the  great 
American  contribution.  But  in  our  society  the  fullest 
self-realization  depends  upon  a  well  balanced  knowl- 
edge of  scientific  facts,  upon  a  rounded  culture.  Thus 
education,  properly  conceived,  is  a  preparation  for  in- 
telligent, ethical,  and  contented  citizenship.  Upon  the 
welfare  of  the  individual  depends  the  welfare  of  all. 
Without  education,  free  institutions  and  universal  suf- 
frage are  mockeries;  semi-learned  masses  of  the  popu- 
lation are  at  the  mercy  of  scheming  politicians,  con- 
troversialists, and  pseudo-scientific  religionists,  and 
their  votes  are  swayed  by  prejudice. 

In  a  materialistic  competitive  order,  success  in  life 
depends  upon  the  knack  —  innate  or  acquired,  and  not 
to  be  highly  rated  —  of  outwitting  one's  neighbour 
under  the  rules  of  the  game  —  the  law;  education  is 
merely  a  cultural  leaven  within  the  reach  of  the  com- 
paratively few  who  can  afford  to  attend  a  university. 
The  business  college  is  a  more  logical  institution.  In 
an  emulative  civilization,  however,  the  problem  is  to 
discover  and  develop  in  childhood  and  youth  the  per- 
sonal aptitude  or  gift  of  as  many  citizens  as  possible, 
in  order  that  they  may  find  self-realization  by  making 


160      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

their  peculiar  contribution  towards  the  advancement  of 
society. 

The  prevailing  system  of  education,  which  we  have 
inherited  from  the  past,  largely  fails  to  accomplish  this. 
In  the  first  place,  it  has  been  authoritative  rather  than 
scientific,  which  is  to  say  that  students  have  been  in- 
duced to  accept  the  statements  of  teachers  and  text  books, 
and  have  not  been  trained  to  weigh  for  themselves  their 
reasonableness  and  worth ;  a  principle  essentially  un- 
scientific and  undemocratic,  since  it  inculcates  in  the 
future  citizen  convictions  rather  than  encourages  the 
habit  of  openmindedness  so  necessary  for  democratic 
citizenship.  For  democracy  —  it  cannot  be  too  often 
repeated  —  is  a  dynamic  thing,  experimental,  creative 
in  its  very  essence.  No  static  set  of  opinions  can  apply 
to  the  constantly  changing  aspect  of  affairs.  New  dis- 
coveries, which  come  upon  us  with  such  bewildering 
rapidity,  are  apt  abruptly  to  alter  social  and  industrial 
conditions,  while  morals  and  conventions  are  no  longer 
absolute.  Sudden  crises  threaten  the  stability  of  na- 
tions and  civilizations.  Safety  lies  alone  in  the  ability 
to  go  forward,  to  progress.  Psychology  teaches  us  that 
if  authoritative  opinions,  convictions,  or  "  complexes  " 
are  stamped  upon  the  plastic  brain  of  the  youth  they 
tend  to  harden,  and  he  is  apt  to  become  a  Democrat 
or  Republican,  an  Episcopalian  or  a  Baptist,  a  free 
trader  or  a  tariff  advocate  or  a  Manchester  economist 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION,     161 

without  asking  why.  Such  "  complexes  "  were  prob- 
ably referred  to  by  the  celebrated  physician  who  em- 
phasized the  hopelessness  of  most  individuals  over  forty. 
And  every  reformer  and  forum  lecturer  knows  how 
difficult  it  is  to  convert  the  average  audience  of  sea- 
soned adults  to  a  new  idea:  he  finds  the  most  respon- 
sive groups  in  the  universities  and  colleges.  It  is  sig- 
nificant that  the  "  educated  "  adult  audiences  in  clubs 
and  prosperous  churches  are  the  least  open  to  conver- 
sion, because,  in  the  scientific  sense,  the  "  educated  " 
classes  retain  complexes,  and  hence  are  the  least  pre- 
pared to  cope  with  the  world  as  it  is  today.  The  Ger- 
man system,  which  has  been  bent  upon  installing  au- 
thoritative conviction  instead  of  encouraging  freedom 
of  thought,  should  be  a  warning  to  us. 

Again,  outside  of  the  realm  of  physical  science,  our 
text  books  have  been  controversial  rather  than  impar- 
tial, especially  in  economics  and  history;  resulting  in 
erroneous  and  distorted  and  prejudiced  ideas  of  events, 
such  for  instance,  as  our  American  Revolution.  The 
day  of  the  controversialist  is  happily  coming  to  an  end, 
and  of  the  writer  who  twists  the  facts  of  science  to  suit 
a  world  of  his  own  making,  or  of  that  of  a  group  with 
which  he  is  associated.  Theory  can  now  be  labelled 
theory,  and  fact,  fact.  Impartial  and  painstaking  in- 
vestigation is  the  sole  method  of  obtaining  truth. 

The  old  system  of  education  benefited  only  the  com- 


162      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

paratively  few  to  whose  nature  and  inclination  it  was 
adapted.  We  have  need,  indeed,  of  classical  scholars, 
but  the  majority  of  men  and  women  are  meant  for  other 
work;  many,  by  their  very  construction  of  mind,  are 
unfitted  to  become  such.  And  only  in  the  most  excep- 
tional cases  are  the  ancient  languages  really  mastered ; 
a  smattering  of  these,  imposed  upon  the  unwilling 
scholar  by  a  principle  opposed  to  psychology, —  a  smat- 
tering from  which  is  derived  no  use  and  joy  in  after 
life,  and  which  has  no  connection  with  individual  in- 
clination —  is  worse  than  nothing.  Precious  time  is 
wasted  during  the  years  when  the  mind  is  most  re- 
ceptive. While  the  argument  of  the  old  school  that 
discipline  can  only  be  inculcated  by  the  imposition  of  a 
distasteful  task  is  unsound.  As  Professor  Dewey 
points  out,  unless  the  interest  is  in  some  way  involved 
there  can  be  no  useful  discipline.  And  how  many  of 
our  university  and  high  school  graduates  today  are 
in  any  sense  disciplined?  Stimulated  interest  alone 
can.  overcome  the  resistance  imposed  by  a  difficult  task, 
as  any  scientist,  artist,  organizer  or  administrator 
knows.  Men  will  discipline  themselves  to  gain  a  de- 
sired end.  Under  the  old  system  of  education  a  few 
children  succeed  either  because  they  are  desirous  of 
doing  well,  interested  in  the  game  of  mental  competi- 
tion ;  or  else  because  they  contrive  to  clothe  with  flesh 
and  blood  some  subject  presented  as  a  skeleton.  It  is 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      163 

not  uncommon,  indeed,  to  recognize  in  later  years  with 
astonishment  a  useful  citizen  or  genius  whom  at  school 
or  college  we  recall  as  a  dunce  or  laggard.  In  our 
present  society,  because  of  archaic  methods  of  educa- 
tion, the  development  of  such  is  largely  left  to  chance. 
Those  who  might  have  been  developed  in  time,  who 
might  have  found  their  task,  often  become  wasters, 
drudges,  and  even  criminals. 

The  old  system  tends  to  make  types,  to  stamp  every 
scholar  in  the  same  mould,  whether  he  fits  it  or  not. 
More  and  more  the  parents  of  today  are  looking  about 
for  new  schools,  insisting  that  a  son  or  daughter  pos- 
sesses some  special  gift  which,  under  teachers  of  genius, 
might  be  developed  before  it  is  too  late.  And  in  most 
cases,  strange  to  say,  the  parents  are  right.  They  them- 
selves have  been  victims  of  a  standardized  system. 

A  new  and  distinctly  American  system  of  education, 
designed  to  meet  the  demands  of  modern  conditions,  has 
been  put  in  practice  in  parts  of  the  United  States.  In 
spite  of  opposition  from  school  boards,  from  all  those 
who  cling  to  the  conviction  that  education  must  of  neces- 
sity be  an  unpalatable  and  "  disciplinary  "  process,  the 
number  of  these  schools  is  growing.  The  objection,  put 
forth  by  many,  that  they  are  still  in  the  experimental 
stage,  is  met  by  the  reply  that  experiment  is  the  very 
essence  of  the  system.  Democracy  is  experimental,  and 
henceforth  education  will  remain  experimental  for  all 


164      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

time.  But,  as  in  any  other  branch  of  science,  the  ele- 
ment of  ascertained  fact  will  gradually  increase:  the 
latent  possibilities  in  the  mind  of  the  healthy  child  will 
be  discovered  by  knowledge  gained  through  impartial 
investigation.  The  old  system,  like  all  other  institu- 
tions handed  down  to  us  from  the  ages,  proceeds  on  no 
intelligent  theory,  has  no  basis  on  psychology,  and  is 
accepted  merely  because  it  exists. 

The  new  education  is  selective.  The  mind  of  each 
child  is  patiently  studied  with  the  view  of  discovering 
the  peculiar  bent,  and  this  bent  is  guided  and  encour- 
aged. The  child  is  allowed  to  forge  ahead  in  those  sub- 
jects for  which  he  shows  an  aptitude,  and  not  compelled 
to  wait  on  a  class.  Such  supervision,  of  course,  de- 
mands more  teachers,  teachers  of  an  ability  hitherto 
deplorably  rare,  and  thoroughly  trained  in  their  sub- 
jects, with  a  sympathetic  knowledge  of  the  human 
mind.  Theirs  will  be  the  highest  and  most  responsi- 
ble function  in  the  state,  and  they  must  be  rewarded  in 
proportion  to  their  services. 

A  superficial  criticism  declares  that  in  the  new  schools 
children  will  study  only  "  what  they  like."  On  the 
contrary,  all  subjects  requisite  for  a  wide  culture,  as 
well  as  for  the  ability  to  cope  with  existence  in  a  highly 
complex  civilization,  are  insisted  upon.  It  is  true,  how- 
ever, that  the  trained  and  gifted  teacher  is  able  to  dis- 
cover a  method  of  so  presenting  a  subject  as  to  seize  the 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      165 

imagination  and  arouse  the  interest  and  industry  of  a 
majority  of  pupils.  In  the  modern  schools  French,  for 
example,  is  really  taught ;  pupils  do  not  acquire  a  mere 
smattering  of  the  language.  And,  what  is  more  im- 
portant, the  course  of  study  is  directly  related  to  life, 
and  to  practical  experience,  instead  of  being  set  forth 
abstractly,  as  something  which  at  the  time  the  pupil 
perceives  no  possibility  of  putting  into  use.  At  one  of 
the  new  schools  in  the  south,  the  ignorant  child  of  the 
mountains  at  once  acquires  a  knowledge  of  measure- 
ment and  elementary  arithmetic  by  laying  out  a  gar- 
den, of  letters  by  inscribing  his  name  on  a  little  sign- 
board in  order  to  identify  his  patch  —  for  the  moment 
private  property.  And  this  principle  is  carried  through 
all  the  grades.  In  the  Gary  Schools  and  elsewhere  the 
making  of  things  in  the  shops,  the  modelling  of  a  Pan- 
ama Canal,  the  inspection  of  industries  and  governmen- 
tal establishments,  the  designing,  building,  and  decora- 
tion of  houses,  the  discussion  and  even  dramatization  of 
the  books  read, —  all  are  a  logical  and  inevitable  con- 
tinuation of  the  abstract  knowledge  of  the  schoolroom. 
The  success  of  the  direct  application  of  learning  to  in- 
dustrial and  professional  life  may  also  be  observed  in 
such  colleges  as  those  at  Cincinnati  and  Schenectady, 
where  young  men  spend  half  the  time  of  the  course  in 
the  shops  of  manufacturing  corporations,  often  earning 
more  than  enough  to  pay  their  tuition. 


Children  are  not  only  prepared  for  democratic  citi- 
zenship by  being  encouraged  to  think  for  themselves, 
but  also  to  govern  and  discipline  themselves.  On  the 
moral  side,  under  the  authoritative  system  of  lay  and 
religious  training,  character  was  acquired  at  the  ex- 
pense of  mental  flexibility  —  the  Puritan  method;  our 
problem  today,  which  the  new  system  undertakes,  is  to 
produce  character  with  openmindedness  —  the  kind  of 
character  possessed  by  many  great  scientists.  Absorp- 
tion in  an  appropriate  task  creates  a  moral  will,  while 
science,  knowledge,  informs  the  mind  why  a  thing 
is  "  bad "  or  "  good,"  disintegrating  or  upbuilding. 
Moreover,  these  children  are  trained  for  democratic  gov- 
ernment by  the  granting  of  autonomy.  They  have  their 
own  elected  officials,  their  own  courts;  their  decisions 
are,  of  course,  subject  to  reversal  by  the  principal,  but 
in  practice  this  seldom  occurs. 

The  Gary  Schools  and  many  of  the  new  schools  are 
public  schools.  And  the  principle  of  the  new  education 
that  the  state  is  primarily  responsible  for  the  health  of 
pupils  —  because  an  unsound  body  is  apt  to  make  an 
unsound  citizen  of  backward  intelligence  —  is  now  be- 
ing generally  adopted  by  public  schools  all  over  the 
country.  This  idea  is  essentially  an  element  of  the 
democratic  contention  that  all  citizens  must  be  given 
an  equality  of  opportunity  —  though  all  may  not  be 
created  equal  —  now  becoming  a  positive  rather  than 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION     167 

a  negative  right,  guaranteed  by  the  state  itself.  An 
earnest  attempt  is  thus  made  by  the  state  to  give  every 
citizen  a  fair  start  that  in  later  years  he  may  have  no 
ground  for  discontent  or  complaint.  He  stands  on  his 
own  feet,  he  rises  in  proportion  to  his  ability  and  in- 
dustry. Hence  the  program  of  the  British  Labour 
Party  rightly  lays  stress  on  education,  on  "  freedom  of 
mental  opportunity."  The  vast  sums  it  proposes  to 
spend  for  this  purpose  are  justified. 

If  such  a  system  of  education  as  that  briefly  outlined 
above  is  carefully  and  impartially  considered,  the  ob- 
jection that  democratic  government  founded  on  modern 
social  science  is  coercive  must  disappear.  So  far  as 
the  intention  and  effort  of  the  state  is  able  to  confer  it, 
every  citizen  will  have  his  choice  of  the  task  he  is  to 
perform  for  society,  his  opportunity  for  self-realization. 
For  freedom  without  education  is  a  myth.  By  degrees 
men  and  women  are  making  ready  to  take  their  places 
in  an  emulative  rather  than  a  materialistically  competi- 
tive order.  But  the  experimental  aspect  of  this  system 
should  always  be  borne  in  mind,  with  the  fact  that  its 
introduction  and  progress,  like  that  of  other  elements 
in  the  democratic  program,  must  be  gradual,  though  al- 
ways proceeding  along  sound  lines.  For  we  have  ar- 
rived at  that  stage  of  enlightenment  when  we  realize 
that  the  only  mundane  perfection  lies  in  progress  rather 
than  achievement.  The  millennium  is  always  a  lap 


168      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

ahead.  There  would  be  no  satisfaction  in  overtaking 
it,  for  then  we  should  have  nothing  more  to  do,  nothing 
more  to  work  for. 

VII 

The  German  Junkers  have  prostituted  science  by 
employing  it  for  the  destruction  of  humanity.  In  the 
name  of  Christianity  they  have  waged  the  most  bar- 
baric war  in  history.  Yet  if  they  shall  have  demon- 
strated to  mankind  the  futility  of  efficiency  achieved 
merely  for  material  ends;  if,  by  throwing  them  on  a 
world  screen,  they  shall  have  revealed  the  evils  of  power 
upheld  alone  by  ruthlessness  and  force,  they  will  un- 
wittingly have  performed  a  world  service.  Privilege 
and  dominion,  powers  and  principalities  acquired  by 
force  must  be  sustained  by  force.  To  fail  will  be  fatal. 
Even  a  duped  people,  trained  in  servility,  will  not  con- 
sent to  be  governed  by  an  unsuccessful  autocracy.  Ar- 
rogantly Germany  has  staked  her  all  on  world  domina- 
tion. Hence  a  victory  for  the  Allies  must  mean  a 
democratic  Germany. 

Nothing  short  of  victory.  There  can  be  no  arrange- 
ment, no  agreement,  no  parley  with  or  confidence  in 
these  modern  scions  of  darkness  —  Hohenzollerns,  Hin- 
denburgs,  Ludendorffs  and  their  tools.  Propaganda 
must  not  cease;  the  eyes  of  Germans  still  capable  of 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      169 

sight  must  be  opened.  But,  as  the  President  says,  force 
must  be  used  to  the  limit  —  force  for  a  social  end  as 
opposed  to  force  for  an  evil  end.  There  are  those 
among  us  who  advocate  a  boycott  of  Germany  after 
peace  is  declared.  These  would  seem  to  take  it  for 
granted  that  we  shall  fall  short  of  victory,  and  hence 
that  selfish  retaliative  or  vindictive  practices  between 
nations,  sanctioned  by  imperialism,  will  continue  to 
flourish  after  the  war.  But  should  Germany  win  she 
will  see  to  it  that  there  is  no  boycott  against  her.  A 
compromised  peace  would  indeed  mean  the  perpetua- 
tion of  both  imperialism  and  militarism. 

It  is  characteristic  of  those  who  put  their  faith  in 
might  alone  that  they  are  not  only  blind  to  the  finer 
relationships  between  individuals  and  nations,  but  take 
no  account  of  the  moral  forces  in  human  affairs  which 
in  the  long  run  are  decisive, —  a  lack  of  sensitiveness 
which  explains  Germany's  colossal  blunders.  The  first 
had  to  do  with  Britain.  The  German  militarists  per- 
sisted in  the  belief  that  the  United  Kingdom  was  de- 
generated by  democracy,  intent  upon  the  acquisition 
of  wealth,  distracted  by  strife  at  home,  uncertain  of 
the  Empire,  and  thus  would  selfishly  remain  aloof 
while  the  Kaiser's  armies  overran  and  enslaved  the 
continent.  What  happened,  to  Germany's  detriment, 
was  the  instant  socialization  of  Britain,  and  the 
binding  together  of  the  British  Empire.  Germany's 


170      THE  AMEBICAN  CONTKIBUTION 

second  great  blunder  was  an  arrogant  underestimation 
of  a  self-reliant  people  of  English  culture  and  traditions. 
She  believed  that  we,  too,  had  been  made  flabby  by 
democracy,  were  wholly  intent  upon  the  pursuit  of  the 
dollar  —  only  to  learn  that  America  would  lavish  her 
vast  resources  and  shed  her  blood  for  a  cause  which  was 
American.  Germany  herself  provided  that  cause, 
shaped  the  issues  so  that  there  was  no  avoiding  them. 
She  provided  the  occasion  for  the  socializing  of  America 
also ;  and  thus  brought  about,  within  a  year,  a  national 
transformation  which  in  times  of  peace  might  scarce  in 
half  a  century  have  been  accomplished. 

Above  all,  as  a  consequence  of  these  two  blunders, 
Germany  has  been  compelled  to  witness  the  consumma- 
tion of  that  which  of  all  things  she  had  most  to  fear,  the 
cementing  of  a  lasting  fellowship  between  the  English 
speaking  Republic  and  the  English  speaking  Empire. 
For  we  had  been  severed  since  the  18th  Century  by 
misunderstandings  which  of  late  Germany  herself  had 
been  more  or  less  successful  in  fostering.  She  has 
furnished  a  bond  not  only  between  our  governments,  but 
—  what  is  vastly  more  important  for  democracy  —  a 
bond  between  our  peoples.  Our  soldiers  are  now  side  by 
side  with  those  of  the  Empire  on  the  Frontier  of 
Freedom;  the  blood  of  all  is  shed  and  mingled  for  a 
great  cause  embodied  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  tradition  of 
democracy ;  and  our  peoples,  through  the  realization  of 


THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION      171 

common  ideas  and  common  ends,  are  learning  the  su- 
preme lesson  of  co-operation  between  nations  with  a 
common  past,  are  being  cemented  into  a  union  which  is 
the  symbol  and  forerunner  of  the  democratic  League  of 
Nations  to  come.  Henceforth,  we  believe,  because  of 
this  union,  so  natural  yet  so  long  delayed,  by  virtue  of 
the  ultimate  victory  it  forecasts,  the  sun  will  never  set 
on  the  Empire  of  the  free,  for  the  drum  beats  of  democ- 
racy have  been  heard  around  the  world.  To  this  Em- 
pire will  be  added  the  precious  culture  of  France,  which 
the  courage  of  her  sons  will  have  preserved,  the  con- 
tributions of  Italy,  and  of  Russia,  yes,  and  of  Japan. 

Our  philosophy  and  our  religion  are  changing ;  hence 
it  is  more  and  more  difficult  to  use  the  old  terms  to 
describe  moral  conduct.  "We  say,  for  instance,  that 
America's  action  in  entering  the  war  has  been  "  unself- 
ish." But  this  merely  means  that  we  have  our  own 
convictions  concerning  the  ultimate  comfort  of  the 
world,  the  manner  of  self-realization  of  individuals  and 
nations.  We  are  attempting  to  turn  calamity  into  good. 
If  this  terrible  conflict  shall  result  in  the  inauguration 
of  an  emulative  society,  if  it  shall  bring  us  to  the  recog- 
nition that  intelligence  and  science  may  be  used  for  the 
upbuilding  of  such  an  order,  and  for  an  eventual 
achievement  of  world  peace,  every  sacrifice  shall  have 
been  justified. 


172      THE  AMERICAN  CONTRIBUTION 

Such  is  the  American  Issue.  Our  statesmen  and 
thinkers  have  helped  to  evolve  it,  our  people  with  their 
blood  and  treasure  are  consecrating  it.  And  these 
statesmen  and  thinkers,  of  whom  our  American  Presi- 
dent is  not  the  least,  are  of  democracy  the  pioneers. 
From  the  mountain  tops  on  which  they  stand  they  be- 
hold the  features  of  the  new  world,  the  dawn  of  the  new 
day  hidden  as  yet  from  their  brothers  in  the  valley.  Let 
us  have  faith  always  that  it  is  coming,  and  struggle  on, 
highly  resolving  that  those  who  gave  their  lives  in  the 
hour  of  darkness  shall  not  have  died  in  vain. 


THE    END 


FEINTED    IJf    THE    UNITED    STATES    OF    AMERICA 


'THE    following   pages   contain    advertisements   of 
Macmillan  books  by  the  same  author. 


The  Dwelling  Place  of  Light 

BY  WINSTON  CHURCHILL 

Author  of  "The  Inside  of  the  Cup,"  "Richard  Carvel,"  etc. 
With  frontispiece  by  Arthur  I.  Keller. 

Cloth,  I2mo.,  $1.60 

"One  of  the  most  absorbing  and  fascinating  romances, 
and  one  of  the  most  finished  masterpieces  of  serious  literary 
art  which  have  appeared  in  this  year  or  in  this  century." — 
New  York  Tribune. 

"It  is  a  powerful  story,  wonderfully  told,  the  gifted  author 
has  succeeded  in  gripping  the  reader's  attention  and  in 
holding  his  interest  to  the  very  last.  .  .  .  Janet  is  a  charac- 
ter that  will  live,  for  there  are  thousands  of  young  women 
who  will  recognize  in  her  some  phase  of  their  own  experi- 
ence and  some  of  their  own  aspirations." — Philadelphia 
Ledger. 

"He  has  never  hitherto  depicted  a  woman  character  with 
quite  so  much  insight,  skill  and  surety  as  he  portrays  Janet 
Bumpus." — New  York  Times. 

America,  dynamic,  changing,  diverse,  with  new  laws  and 
old  desires,  new  industries  and  old  social  rights,  new  people 
and  old — this  is  the  environment  in  which  Mr.  Churchill 
places  the  heroine  of  his  new  book.  He  has  never  written 
a  more  entertaining  story ;  he  has  never  written  one  that  is 
more  significant  in  its  interpretation  of  human  relation- 
ships to-day. 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

Publishers     64-66  Fifth  Avenue     New  YorK 


A  Far  Country 


BY  WINSTON  CHURCHILL 

Author  of  "  The  Inside  of  the  Cup,"  etc. 

Illustrated, 

"No  one  can  afford  to  miss  reading  'A  Far  Country,'  or  read- 
ing it  can  fail  to  be  interested.  The  themes  Mr.  Churchill  handles 
are  the  big  themes  confronting  all  America  and  in  the  fortunes  and 
misfortunes  of  his  characters  he  indicates  energies  and  developments 
that  are  nation-wide.  It  touches  on  what  is  vital  .  .  .  and  it  will 
help  in  no  small  degree  to  broaden  our  thought  and  clarify  our  vis- 
ion. Many  people  read  '  The  Inside  of  the  Cup,'  but ;  A  Far  Coun-1 
try'  should  reach  a  wider  audience."  —  New  York  Times. 

"A  powerfully  written  story,  displaying  wonderful  scope  and  clar- 
ity of  vision.  Presents  a  wonderful  study  of  American  emotions." 

—  Boston  Globe. 

"A  story  worthily  complete  .  .  .  vastly  encouraging.  The  kind 
of  a  book  that  points  to  a  hope  and  a  right  road." 

—  New  York  World. 

"  Mr.  Churchill  has  done  a  difficult  thing  well.  .  .  .  We  congrat- 
ulate him  on  an  achievement  well  worth  while." —  Chicago  Post. 

"A  great  piece  of  art,  comprising  admirable  humanization,  plot 
and  sympathy,  diverse  as  intrinsic  .  .  .  and  many  interesting  side 
issues.  Any  author  might  well  be  proud  of  such  an  achievement." 

—  Chicago  Herald. 

utA  Far  Country'"  is  a  strong  story  that  is  vital  and  compelling. 
.  .  .  Adds  one  more  leaf  to  Mr.  Churchill's  literary  laurels." 

—  Philadelphia  Ledger. 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

Publishers          64-66  Fifth  Avenue          New  York 


"The  Most  Profoundly  Interesting  Novel  of  the  Times" 


The  Inside  of  the  Cup 


BY  WINSTON  CHURCHILL 

Author  of  "Richard  Carvel,"  "The  Crisis,"  "The  Crossing,"  "The  Celebrity," 
"  Coniston,"  "Mr.  Crewe's  Career,"  "A  Modern  Chronicle" 

Illustrated,  doth,  $1.50 

"A  book  tremendously  in  earnest,  stamped  with  the  zeal  of  a  man  who  is  setting 
forth  in  it  truths  of  the  greatest  significance  to  his  fellowmen.  .  .  .  The  stage  set- 
ting and  the  actors  are  typical  of  our  American  present-day  civilization.  They 
Strike  true  of  our  well-to-do  society  in  any  of  pur  large  cities.  Those  who  are  in- 
terested in  present-day  currents  of  thought  will  read  this  book  with  profound  in- 
terest and  will  be  thankful  that  Mr.  Churchill  was  moved  to  write  it.  'The  Inside 
of  the  Cup'  is  not  only  significant  as  an  indication  of  modern  tendencies,  it  fur- 
nishes also  a  valuable  contribution  to  a  cause  that  grows  more  and  more  vital." 
—  New  York  Times. 

"A  novel  which  ought  to  arouse  as  much  comment  as '  Robert  Elsmere '  did  twenty- 
five  years  ago.  The  story  is  told  with  far  greater  skill  than  Mrs.  Ward  showed  in 
'  Robert  Elsmere '  or  its  successors.  There  is  a  love  story,  which  is  extremely  well 
told,  and  there  are  fine  characterizations,  notably  of  Eldon  Parr,  the  big  financier. 
He  will  stand  with  Jethro  Bass,  the  political  boss  in  '  Coniston,'  as  a  proof  of  Mr. 
Churchill's  power  to  seize  and  portray  realities.  The  scenes  with  the  woman  of 
the  slums,  too,  are  vivid  and  would  come  over  the  footlights  with  great  dramatic 
force,  if  it  were  possible  to  dramatize  the  book."  — Brooklyn  Eagle. 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

A  Modern  Chronicle 


Illustrated,  $1.50 


This,  Mr.  Churchill's  first  great  presentation  of  the  Eternal  Feminine,  is  through- 
out a  profound  study  of  a  fascinating  young  American  woman.  It  is  frankly  a 
modern  love  story. 

"The  most  thorough  and  artistic  work  the  author  has  yet  turned  out.'  A  very 
interesting  story  and  a  faithful  picture  of  character  .  .  .  one  that  will  give  rise  to 
much  discussion."  —  New  York  Sun. 

"A  brilliant  tale.  His  Honora  has  rare  beauty  of  soul  and  body,  and  best  of 
all  she  is  comprehensible  and  real."  —  Boston  Herald. 

"Nothing  that  Winston  Churchill  has  done  has  quite  reached  the  high-water 
mark  of  this  cross-section  of  contemporary  American  life,  cut  so  from  the  heart  of 
things  that  every  nerve  and  vein  and  fibre  of  it,  show  their  connection  with  the 
human  news  of  the  hour."  —  Albany  Argus. 


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Publishers  64-66  Fifth  Avenue  New  York 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 


The  Crossing 


Illustrated,  $1.50 


"A  thoroughly  interesting  book,  packed  with  exciting  adventure  and 
sentimental  incident,  yet  faithful  to  historical  fact  both  in  detail  and  in 
spirit."  —  The  Dial. 

"Mr.  Churchill's  novel  is  a  vigorous  and  absorbing  love  story."  —  The 
Seattle  Times. 

"Deals  with  one  of  the  most  fascinating  dramas  in  the  history  of  the  world. 
It  is  brimming  with  interest."  —  Brooklyn  Eagle. 

"So  widespread  is  Winston  Churchill's  popularity,  so  breathless  the 
public  interest  excited  by  each  anxiously  awaited  new  novel  from  his  pen, 
that  one  is  perforce  compelled  to  pay  him  the  compliment  of  early  reading 
and  thorough  consideration.  But  his  achievement  is  noteworthy.  .  .  . 

"'The  Crossing'  is,  moreover,  far  in  advance  of  'The  Crisis.'  It  is  more 
real,  more  genuine,  more  spontaneous,  more  vigorous,  a  clearer  and  more 
coherent  picture  of  its  times.  It  contains  no  little  humor."  —  Boston 
Transcript. 


Hie  Crisis 


Illustrated,  $1.50 


"A  charming  love  story  that  never  loses  its  interest.  .  .  .  The  intense 
political  bitterness,  the  intense  patriotism  of  both  parties,  are  shown  un- 
derstandingly."  —  Evening  Telegraph,  Philadelphia. 

"In  some  respects  'Richard  Carvel'  was  a  new  thing;  by  comparison 
'The  Crisis'  is  something  that  has  been  done  often  before,  but  never  done 
so  well.  The  vivacity,  variety  and  spirit  of  the  old  Southern  social  life 
have  never  been  so  well  suggested,  not  even  in  'Red  Rock.'  The  women  are 
altogether  delightful  —  Mr.  Churchill's  forte  is  fascinating  and  spirited 
patrician  women."  —  Boston  Herald. 

"There  have  been  many  novels  built  upon  the  interests  aroused  and 
stilled  by  the  Civil  War,  but  there  has  been  none  surpassing  this  in  truth 
and  power."  —  Argonaut,  San  Francisco. 

"It  is  a  high  office  to  give  a  new  generation  of  Americans  their  first  vivid 
conception  of  the  struggle  in  which  the  Nation  was  reborn."  —  The  Review 
of  Reviews.  

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Publishers  64-66  Fifth  Avenue  Hew  Tork 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

Illustrated,  $1.50 
"A  lighter,  gayer  spirit  and  a  deeper,  tenderer  touch  than  Mr.  Churchill 
has  ever  achieved  before.  .  .  .    One  of  the  truest  and  finest  transcripts 
of  modern  American  life  thus  far  achieved  in  our  fiction."  —  Chicago  Record- 
Herald. 

Pall  Mall  Gazette.  —  "There  is  not  a  page  without  its  interest,  colour, 
and  significance." 

"'Coniston'  is  a  thoroughly  characteristic  American  novel  .  .  .  among 
the  small  company  of  the  best."  —  Chicago  Tribune. 

"'Coniston'  is,  first  of  all,  a  delightful  love  story,  vigorous,  vibrant,  and 
realistic  ....  the  great  novel  of  the  year."  —  Philadelphia  North  American. 

"Mr.  Churchill  has  more  of  the  epic  quality  than  any  writer  now  living. 
In  '  Coniston '  there  is  not  a  page  without  its  interest,  color,  significance,  and 
all  contributory  to  that  unity  of  character  and  meaning  which  decides  for 
a  work  of  art  the  question  of  performance."  —  London  Times. 

"The  drawing  of  the  character  of  Jethro  Bass  is  a  masterpiece  of  litera- 
ture." —  St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat. 

The  Celebrity  $1.50 

AN  EPISODE 

"No  such  piece  of  inimitable  comedy  in  a  literary  way  has  appeared  for 
years.  It  is  the  purest,  keenest  fun."  —  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

"...  The  most  delightful  surprise  to  the  usual  novel  reader."  —  New 
Orleans  Times-Democrat. 

"One  of  the  best  stories  that  have  come  from  the  presses."  —  Brooklyn 
Eagle. 

"A  delightful  entertaining  novel."  —  Boston  Courier. 


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Publisher!  64-66  Fifth  Avenue  New  York 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 


Mr.  Crewe's  Career 


Cloth,   I21HC,  $l.5O 

Illustrated  by  MR.  KELLER  and  the  KINNEYS 

"Representative  of  conditions  to  be  found  in  every  State  of  the  Union.  'Mr. 
Crewe's  Career'  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  American  novels." 

"Mr.  Churchill  rises  to  a  level  he  has  never  known  before  and  gives  us  one  of  the 
best  stories  of  American  life  ever  written.  ...  It  is  written  out  of  a  sympathy  that 
goes  deep.  .  .  .  We  go  on  to  the  end  with  glowing  appreciation.  ...  It  is  good 
to  have  such  a  book."  —  New  York  Tribune. 

"American  realism,  American  romance,  and  American  doctrine,  all  overtraced 
by  the  kindliest,  most  appealing  American  humor."  —  New  York  World. 

"It  is  an  honest  and  fair  story.  ...  It  is  very  interesting;  and  the  heroine  is 
a  type  of  woman  as  fresh,  original,  and  captivating  as  any  that  has  appeared  in 
American  novels  for  a  long  time  past."  —  The  Outlook. 

"We  go  'way  back  and  sit  down  before  'Mr.  Crewe's  Career,'  which  The  Mac- 
millan  Company  publishes  to-day.  The  new  story  has  all  the  author's  virtues  — 
which  are  many  —  and  almost  none  of  his  faults.  It  is  some  fifty  pages  shorter 
than  'Coniston,'  and  we  would  willingly  have  read  fifty  pages  more.  .  .  .  The 
love  story  of  Victoria  Flint,  the  railroad  president's  daughter,  and  Austen  Vane.the 
railroad's  chief  counsel's  rebellious  son,  is  a  golden  one.  There  is  something  starry 
and  vivid  about  Mr.  Churchill's  heroine  that  recalls  Meredith's  Miss  Middleton  — 
and  Clara,  we  have  Stevenson's  word  for  it,  'is  the  nicest  girl  that  was  ever  in  a 
book.'  In  short,  'Mr.  Crewe's  Career'  is  a  fine  achievement,  of  which  Mr. 
Churchill  and  his  countrymen  may  be  proud,  and  it  is,  moreover,  a  truly  representa- 
tive and  distinctly  American  novel."  —  New  York  Globe  and  Commercial  Advertiser. 

Richard  Carvel  $1.50 

Illustrated  by  CARLTON  T.  CHAPMAN  and  MALCOLM  FRAZER 

"In  breadth  of  canvas,  massing  of  dramatic  effect,  depth  of  feeling  and  rare 
wholesomeness  of  spirit,  has  seldom,  if  ever,  been  surpassed  by  an  American  ro- 
mance." —  Chicago  Tribune. 

"One  of  the  most  brilliant  works  of  imagination  of  the  decade.  It  breathes  the 
spirit  of  fine  romance  ...  in  a  way  that  is  truly  fascinating."  —  The  Philadelphia 
Press. 

"Contains,  besides  a  score  of  characters  which  are  worth  remembering,  a  few 
which  one  could  not  forget  if  one  should  try."  —  N.  Y.  Globe. 

"The  book  altogether  is  a  delightful  one,  abounding  in  powerful  scenes,  with  a 
romance  running  charmingly  through  i'.s  pages,  and  to  many  the  most  interesting 
features  of  all  will  be  the  clever  pen-pictures  of  some  of  the  greatest  men  of  those 
stirring  times."  —  The  Evening  Telegraph,  Phila. 


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DATE  DUE 


M     5 

sWy 

JUN  1  1 

1388  0 

GAYLORD 

PRINTED  INU.S.  A. 

A     000  627  088 


